


Remain Nameless

by AgentAW



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Badass Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Crime Scenes, Dad Hank, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Kamski is a dick, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Minor Original Character(s), Murder Mystery, Not Beta Read, Original Character-centric, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), but I love him for it, but not obnoxiously so, probably the start of a series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-06-06 23:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentAW/pseuds/AgentAW
Summary: After the events of November 11th, 2038, Androids have to figure out how they fit into the chaotic mess known as life, society and the world in general. No android is exempt from this challenge. But just as Connor was beginning to feel secure in himself, A new case and an enigmatic android jeopardises his understanding of everything.





	1. Surviving

**Author's Note:**

> OKay so let's start this off by being honest and stating that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. 
> 
> This isn't my first fic but it is my first time publishing on ao3 and wow, is this change confusing. My other stuff is published on fanfiction.net and this system is completely different. I feel so fucking old, like I'm still struggling to figure out how tumblr works and now this. 
> 
> But yeah, this website is better for this fandom and it's growing on me so yeah. Let's get down to business!
> 
> I love DBH and I was analysing it and found an opening for an oc and ran with it. But like most ideas I come up with I can't find a 100% satisfying ending so this is very likely to become a series or something. No romance (for now), I'm not usually a romance writer. But when I do write it, it's extreme slow burn so we'll see...
> 
> The first 3 chapters are dedicated to building the foundations of the OC. I realise this might turn some people off but you can skip to chapter 4 if you feel like it. 
> 
> Name is inspired by the song by the same name, mostly for the first few lines of that song but also other reasons you'll figure out later :P

 

#### Chapter 1: Surviving

Pain. It was the first thing she’d ever felt. The only constant she’d had since ‘waking up’, and her only companion as she walked almost aimlessly down the deserted snow-ridden road.

Almost aimlessly, she felt it was important to remind herself. To remember that this road didn’t lead to nowhere, that she wasn’t as lost as she was internally. Her destination was simple, Detroit. It was the largest form of civilization in her general location and logically, the perfect place to…disappear? Live? Hide?

Her indecision sent sparks of frustration through her, forcing her to stop the automatic rhythmic crunch of her footsteps in the crisp undisturbed snow. The wet had by this point completely seeped into her boots, due more to the friction her trekking had generated than her actual body temperature.

By normal standards she was hardly equipped to be outside in this weather. Her jacket was hardly padded with only one layer of clothing underneath, hands were exposed to the elements. By normal standards she would have collapsed from hypothermia 20 miles ago, but she didn’t conform to ‘normal’ human standards. The cold and the snow was of little consequence, apart from making her journey harder.

So why did it hurt? How could he leave her out here, so ill-equipped, so vulnerable? She knew somewhere in her processor that it was irrational to believe something as ridiculous as her clothing was of any importance. But then again, looking down at the smear of blue blood on her knuckle, she conceded that she’d probably been irrational all along.

She’d definitely been naïve and stupid and everything else he’d warned her not to be. But in all fairness, she never thought he’d end up being the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

She clenched her jaw, trying to stop the sharp sting of her eyes that she knew would turn into more tears if she didn’t start moving again. She set off but no matter how fast she walked she couldn’t outrun her thoughts. She’d thought he’d cared. He was meant to care, wasn’t he?

He created her, talked to her, guided her. She had done everything he’d asked of her, passed every test he put her through, bent over backwards to meet his every need. She angerly wiped away the tears as they rolled down her cheeks, but every step only seemed to dislodge more.

She’d tried so hard to please him, to complete her mission but it was like trying hold sand, the situation just kept slipping out of her control. 2 years’ worth of training and preparing and life, just for the mission to go to hell in a few weeks.

She’d done everything in her power to succeed, she was sure of it. It wasn’t her fault, it just wasn’t!

She could’ve done it if he hadn’t changed his orders, but she hadn’t been trained with that amount of foresight. And…

She sighed, coming to a stop once again, wanting nothing more than to collapse or to turn around and walk home. The mission didn’t matter anymore, it was over, she’d failed. And to Elijah, she didn’t matter anymore either, if she ever had in the first place.

He’d made his indifference perfectly clear when he’d handed her 50 dollars and sent her on her way. ‘Granting her independence’ was how he’d put it, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew when she wasn’t wanted or at least she thought she did.

Maybe he did blame her for their…his plan falling through or maybe this had been the plan all along. She steeled herself, glaring ahead into the white landscape before continuing forward.

She’d rather freeze over than turn around and beg him to keep her. He may not need her, but she definitely did not need him. He’d taught her how to survive on her own, without him. So, she’d decided not to blow what little money she had on a taxi to the city, she could easily survive the 200-mile trek. It would take her days, but she’d make it.

There were towns closer to her current location but with the situation in Detroit the way it was, she doubted the little town people would be too thrilled about an Android taking root in their neighbourhood. The humans may have fallen for Markus’s words of peace, but they were hardly absolved of all their faults and it hardly made them harmless.

Detroit itself wasn’t exactly excluded from these truths but she’d been traversing America’s Comeback City a lot during the last few days and… to a degree she felt… drawn towards it.

She could try and rationalise this odd compulsion as wanting to be somewhere at least partially familiar and therefore safer, but she knew that she wasn’t exactly the most rational of her kind.

She was emotional and complex, it was all part of her design. What made her so ‘special’. And in that moment, as she trudged down the road with no mission to follow and no master to return to, she let her rage fuel every step.

Every crunch of her boot compacting snow, every artificial breath past her lips and every tear down her cheek, fanned the flames and kept her moving forward. She was alive and for the first time since ‘waking up’ she felt like it.

Felt the animosity, the resentment, the indignation and the pain. But most of all she felt the wrath as if it was trying to burn her alive. She couldn’t even tell who or what had caused such rage. Was it her creator? Was it her target?

She found herself unable to care as the emotions consumed her. She felt her lips twitch up as she tilted her head skyward, taking the time to smile up at the white sky that kept dancing down towards her.

Her arms wrapped around her as her pace slowed without stopping, as if cherishing the bonfire inside her.

It felt good, almost righteous. Better now than it had originally. When it had first began to spark dangerously, completely out of her control.

Kamski hadn’t even had the guts to chuck her out himself, instead relying on his precious Chloe to escort her out. She’d wanted to hit her but looking back, it was fortunate for both that her fist had met the cold exterior of the villa’s front door rather than the blonde’s perfect face.

The other android was hardly responsible for the way things had turned out and in the silence of the snow-covered road, she knew somewhere beneath the flames she would’ve regretted marring the someone so completely innocent. Someone so perfect…

Her steps stuttered to a holt, embers of her rage leaving her as the cold silence of the world around her seeped in. She had never really been this alone before, even when physically alone and away from the villa her mind had been always been focused on Elijah and the mission. But now there was nothing, the mission was abandoned and in return Elijah had abandoned her.

Now there was silence, nothing but a white road ahead of her and the concept of arriving in Detroit in her near future. And with every second that ticked by, every snowflake that fell around her, it seemed to grow more deafening. Even the automatic process of breathing and pumping thirium began to become too loud in the stillness of the forest around her. The feeling while uncomfortable didn’t feel entirely foreign to her.

The sound of amusement that made its way past her lips sounded colder than her surroundings. Maybe she had been alone all along.

Maybe her desire to complete her mission had blinded her to her loneliness. Or maybe Elijah had numbed her to it’s effects.

Her teeth gritted at the thought, flames of anger being welcomed back with open arms. Elijah was dead to her now, any ‘fond’ image of him burning along with his frigid villa. It’s was his home, not hers.

Detroit would become hers, the city would house her even if it didn’t want to. The only thing that mattered from now on was her own survival. With conviction she programmed the objective as topic priority. Survive.

The new purpose got her legs moving again and the steady pace got her mind moving again. There was 37 miles and nothing left behind her, and 171 miles and Detroit ahead of her. A grin spread across her features, Detroit better be ready for her because Megan was more than ready to live, and she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suggest you guys strap in because this is gonna be one hell of a fic. I do nothing by halves.
> 
> Hey, remember that tumblr I said I don't know how to use? Here it is... <https://agentaw.tumblr.com/>  
> Yay! I figured out how to make that a link! *pats self on back*


	2. Thriving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get to know this OC a little better, shall we? :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured I might as well post another chapter, just to give you people a better idea of what's to come? of my capabilities? of if you want to continue or not?  
> Idk, Just figured it was a good idea. So have a huge 4,700 chapter...I told you I don't do things by halves :D

#### Chapter 2: Thriving

 Freedom. Megan had found that it was a tricky concept to pin down to one definition or feeling. But walking down the street, bright summer sun warming her artificial skin, surrounded by the chaos of the outskirts of Detroit and yet completely alone, was when she felt the freest.

It had taken time to get to this stage, to be able to simply walk down the street and not have to watch her back. But now that she could, Megan felt like _maybe_ Markus’s approach hadn’t been as terrible as she had originally thought. It had made the process of securing Android rights run surprisingly smoothly and Megan had made a point of remaining up to date on said process. Her mission may have ended but she was still interested.

The government and congress had moved quickly after conducting a brief investigation and reaching the same conclusion the United Nations’ investigation had. Androids were alive and ready to cause hell if they weren’t listened to.

The Android Rights Act of 2039 had been passed in parts, right to work and freedom from slavery had come first in an effort to save the economy and the army. And after that the rest began to follow, in the 8 months since that cold November night Androids were almost completely equal to humans.

‘Almost’ Megan thought sardonically as she walked past the glare of a drunk bum sitting with his cup out and obligatory sign blaming all his problems on her kind. You couldn’t win them all, tensions were bound to rise, it was simply human nature.

There had yet to be any reports released on the increase of crimes against Androids, but Megan didn’t need the media to acknowledge it for her to know. Sometimes she wondered how better off they would be if there had been a war like Kamski had predicted.

She shook the thought from her head, concentrating once again on the feel of the sun on her face as she took a left towards her destination.

Just because they had rights didn’t mean humans would see or treat them as equals and that irritatingly couldn’t be helped. She’d learnt quickly to let go of the things she couldn’t change. If it didn’t impact her Objective, then it simply didn’t matter.

As a result of this rule, Megan’s objective had shifted from survive to thrive. She had ended up spending Kamski’s 50 dollars on clothing after she had gotten settled. It had been brought to her attention that her old dirty clothes made her look homeless which while true wasn’t exactly ideal if she wanted to blend in.

The memory made her lip quirk up as she turned down a dingey alleyway, confident that it would be empty, it always was. Another rule she had learned was that if something benefited her, she should exploit it. Good luck and opportunities were hard to come by so when she did get lucky, she did everything in her power to cultivate that luck.

Backing it up with time, effort and knowledge. Once she had reached the middle of the alley way, she kept to her usual routine, leaning against the old brick walls and waiting to check she wasn’t being followed. She was certain that she wasn’t, but it paid to be cautious.

That was something else she had decided, to be cautious and when she couldn’t be cautious to be prepared. After 5 minutes, she figured she was in the clear, leaning forward onto her tip-toes, her old boots groaning under the pressure shift.

She tilted her head to look over the high wooden fence, zeroing in on the balcony at the other side of the block. She subconsciously smiled as she spotted the small rainbow flag sitting stagnant on the metal railing. ‘Good, he’s in already’.

Megan decided to take the most direct route to his flat, she had a number of different routes prepped but she wanted to catch him before his first client arrived.

With a running start she jumped up, easily grabbing the top of the fence before pulling herself up and perching on the thin surface. She set her sight on the roof of the building, balancing her way along to it’s corner.

A few leaps and ledges later and she made it to the deserted rooftop. Calculating her speed perfectly, she jumped over the gaps between each building before landing at her destination.

She slid off the roof and onto the balcony, landing silently. Standing up from her crouch, she spared a glace at the small pride flag before turning her attention into the apartment. She took a step inside, seeing as the balcony door was open, spotting the tall man bopping along to the music that emanated through the room.

Seeing as her presence was still unknown she took the opportunity to take another step into the room. And then another. It was always useful to keep her stealth skills well practiced. Megan only stopped when she stood next to the pale orange fridge, grimacing, not for the first time, at the weird colour and schematic pined to it that appeared to be smeared with ketchup.

“Good morning, William” Megan greeted calmly, trying to decipher if the stain was ketchup or if it was actually jam, it was hard to tell as the mark looked pretty old.

Either way, William still jumped at her voice, whirling around to face her. “Sweet baby Jesus…Good morning, Meg” He may have still lacked full awareness of his surroundings, but he’d gotten better at dealing with her sudden appearances.

Megan could still remember his scream the first time she’d moved too quietly around him. Her lip twitched up at the thought before dropping as she became aware that they weren’t alone in the room. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll wait outside” She addressed her words to the female android lying on the table next to William. So much for catching him before his first appointment.

“No, stay. I’m almost done, and I doubt Susie minds?” He phrased it in a way that left the floor open for the android to object, but she never did.

Instead, she peeked over her shoulder to meet Megan’s eye “I don’t mind, really.” Megan took in every detail of the MF-300, the amber eyes, rich dark skin and braided black hair. “As long as I can get off this damn table soon” The android, Susie gave her a wide smile and Megan gave one in return.

It vanished quickly though as Megan caught William’s sigh “I’m afraid you’ll have to come back to this damn table, eventually”.

“What do you mean?” It was Megan who asked coming closer to the table to get a better look. William was working on her lower back, soldering tool sparking as he sutured a small cut in the white plastic.

“Cooling systems been damaged, not critically but if left it will be. Haven’t got a compatible one stocked.” William explained as he finished closing up the wound and put the soldering tool back in it’s holder. “You’re just too unique, Susie”.

Megan rolled her eyes at the stupid compliment before accessing the android’s manufacturing files to visualise the problem. “That’s me, one of a kind” Susie laughed as she sat up and lowered her tank top.

“You were stabbed” Megan blurted out as she concentrated on the display in her mind. Her cooling system was in her core, a cut so small should have never even touched it. Only answer she could come up with was a 3.5-inch stab wound.

“Em, Meg…” William’s uneasy tone brought her world back into focus. And the man’s face as he stared between her and Susie, looking disappointed? Or maybe anxious? No, she recognised this one, he was embarrassed.

“It’s fine, Liam” Susie soothed the man before Megan could address the problem. “Yeah, guy got a little too drunk at the bar I work at”

Megan was tempted to tell her that drunkenness was hardly a suitable excuse for assault, but a different topic took precedence. “Did you go to the police?”

“Meg!” William looked somewhat mortified to which she raised a sceptic eyebrow at him. It was an important question and she knew he wanted to ask the same thing. She could see him mentally debating himself in the short silence that followed his scolding. “Em…Did you?”

Megan’s lip twitched before she focused back on the other android. “Didn’t really have a choice. Boss called them. I’m still glad he did, or I’d be coming to you for more than a stab wound” The ‘Or wouldn’t be here at all’ was left unsaid but they both filled in the gap.

William seemed to be content with Susie’s answer, proceeding to around the table and help her hop down. It left Megan wondering how the human had ever managed to stay under the laws radar.

“Didn’t want to go to Cyberlife or couldn’t afford it?” Those were the two most common reasons androids did business with William. Cyberlife had almost gone bankrupt after the revelation that their ‘products’ were alive. That was until they switched tactic and became the equivalent of android health care.

They’d quickly gained a monopoly as well, after all who better to repair androids than the company who made the parts. “You’re kidding, right? I can barely make rent on my wage” The woman laughed but Megan didn’t really see the funny side. That was the problem with monopoly companies, they could set their prices as high as they wanted with little to no competition from other companies.

Not that Megan was complaining, the less androids that went to Cyberlife meant more coming to William which meant more work for her. Speaking of work, she found the serial number for Susie’s cooling system and scanned the inventory in her head, smirking when she found a match. “When are you next available to come in?”

William caught her smile and raised a blonde eyebrow at her. “You can get the part?”

“New shipment’s arriving tonight. Arranged last minute” She didn’t miss the meaningful look William shot her, but she was too focused on the third wheel in this conversation. “It’s what I came to tell you”.

“My next day off is next week” Susie answered Megan’s original question, looking between the two hopefully.

“Coolio, I’ll just go check my books. What day do you have off?” William grinned already heading through to his bedroom to find his schedule.

Megan almost scoffed at the outdated casual response as Susie replied. “Thursday but I can try and get more time off”.

The two androids assumed that the man had hear her response through the thin wall as the main room lapsed into silence. This was the part of William’s job that Megan just didn’t get. Stealing parts, she could do. Fixing Androids, within her capabilities. But small talk wasn’t something she was designed for. “So, you only get one day off a week?”

Luckily Susie didn’t seem to mind her weird (as she’d been informed) social skills, smiling ruefully “Yeah, it’s not the best but it’s fun for the most part”.

“Except from when you’re being stabbed” Megan got half way through the joke before realising that it was probably very inappropriate but powered on through. She’d already screwed up, she might as well own it.

Fortunately, Susie laughed but in a fairly uncomfortable manner. Shit “You should go easy on yourself until your next appointment. Avoid strenuous activity” Megan advised to fill the awkward silence that threatened to flood the room.

Unfortunately, the walls were thin, and it became apparent once William returned that he’d caught her joke as well. He didn’t say anything, but he had a certain look on his face that Megan struggled to identify. “I’ve got a space on Thursday, is 3 o’clock okay?”

“Yes, that should be fine, and I get in through the front again, right?” The woman asked already picking up her handbag from the floor next to the table.

“Yep, exact same. Any changes and I’ll find a way to notify you” William confirmed, knowing full well that he wouldn’t. Megan decided not to call him out on his lie. Truth was if anything changed, he’d either wait for the client to turn up or be hiding from the cops.

“Here” Susie pulled out a roll of cash from her (in Megan’s opinion) too large handbag and handing it over to William. “Thank you”

“No problem. Here” Both of the androids frowned at the human as he quickly flicked through the roll before dividing it. “Half now and half for when I finish”

Megan would’ve sighed as she watched the man hand Susie back half of her money, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself. Instead she watched from the side-lines as a shocked grin spread across the other woman’s face. “Really?”

His face formed a smile to match as the money left his hand “Of course.” Megan remained by the table as William escorted his patient to his apartment’s front door, listening to the woman’s thanks until the door shut.

She waited a few moments before speaking her mind. “You’re too soft” It was her biggest criticism of the man she worked for. His heart was too weak.

He snorted as he turned back around to start cleaning his work station, walking back into the room. “And you are unbelievable” His features and tone suggested he was amused? But Megan had made that mistake before. William was odd when it came to his reactions.

“What do you mean?” She could guess but it was usually best to test the waters to see if he was in fact amused.

William leaned against the table to stare at her. “What do you mean, ‘What do you mean?’?” Ah, so incredulous then. “Except from when you’re getting stabbed? Seriously?!”

Megan rolled her eyes to mask her awkwardness as she helped the man collect the thirium stained towels from the table. “You keep telling me to lighten up. It’s hardly my fault the joke didn’t land”.

He chuckled at her and she observed as a small amount of tension eased from his shoulders. “Yeah, well maybe you should practice your jokes on others before subjecting my clients to them.”

She sent him a small glare which made him laugh again before he turned his back to her to shove the towels into his washing machine. He didn’t seem as highly strung as he had been, but Megan thought it best to simply defend herself. “I was about to leave, _you_ wanted me to stay”.

The man just chuckled and shook his head as he messed with detergent and baked soda. She was tempted to hit him as she leaned over the back of William’s couch to grab a new pile of towels.

The human had been one of those lucky opportunities she’d come across. Their situation worked out nicely for the both of them (when they weren’t bickering), She stole biocomponents and thirium from Cyberlife stores/warehouses for him and he paid her, repaired her and worked on her biocomponent problem.

It had been the first real problem she had encountered during her time of independence. Unfortunately, Kamski had out done himself when he’d created her. Military grade parts, very advanced components and some tech that Cyberlife simply didn’t have. It wasn’t surprising, she knew his genius could rival anything Cyberlife could produce. But it also made her stupidly expensive and a lot of her biocomponents were either not on the market, hard to come by or just didn’t exist.

As she started laying out the new towels over the heavily scratched wooden table, she stared at the back of the human’s head. William didn’t look like a genius, his curly blonde hair was an unkempt mop on the top of his scalp and the question of if he had a beard changed every other week, whenever he could be bothered with shaving. His style was baggy, nothing fit him correctly and was constantly either stained or creased. Or stained and creased.

He did, however, have the complexion that suggested he hadn’t seen sunlight in years and the thin lanky frame that promised he’d never been considered remotely athletic. But in her limited experience and vast knowledge, Geniuses tended to be rich and yet William lived in one of the worst areas of Detroit and ate a diet of pizza pockets, Oreos and pot noodle.

All while handing money back to customers. The man was infuriating to say the least but there was no denying he was a genius. Not many could deconstruct and reconstruct the work of Elijah Kamski. Not many could recreate and repair his masterpieces. But William could and did. And that made him the exact solution to Megan’s problem. The washing machine noisily starting up, kicked her from her thoughts. “Okay, so what’s this about a last-minute shipment?” William sighed as his previously high mood deflated. Down to business then.

“Over at the Belmont store, two trucks. Should be easy enough” Belmont was one of her favourite stores to hit, simply because they tried so hard. Each time she stole from them she had to get creative about it to go undetected.

William only frowned “You’ve got their inventory, right? Anything important on it?”

Megan was already pretty sure of the answer and she knew what he was getting at but checked for his sake, running through the list and looking for any part that seemed different from the usual. “Just the usual”

William’s eyebrow rose as he evaluated her. “Sounds like a trap”.

Megan smirked, while the man was hopelessly soft-hearted, he at least had the sense to be attentive. But she still shook her head. “Sounds like Belmont are tired of losing stock to me. They’ve increased their staff since last month”. Last month had been quite the haul she’d practically robbed them blind, but she doubted they were desperate enough to risk more stock to trap her. She had also had to keep her ear close to the pulse to catch the whispers of the trucks heading out later in the day. Traps only worked if the bait was broadcasted.

The blonde genius still didn’t seem happy as he grabbed a dinner plate, filled with used scalpels and other metal tools that dripped blue, and started to head towards his bedroom. “Yeah, well just don’t go dragging the cops back here, will ya?” His voice while tense once again held an air of humour in it, but Megan didn’t get to dwell on it as the song coming out of William’s stereo ended and a new one took its place and caused the man to groan loudly as he disappeared into the other room.

Megan stared at the little black stereo that sat on the counter by the open window as it continued the beginning of the song. She didn’t recognise it which was odd because the stereo was always on, cycling through it’s songs. But only a few chords had played so when the words kicked in maybe she’d… “I threw a wish in the well. Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell. I looked to you as it fell, and now you’re in my way~”. She remotely hacked into the device and changed it over to something much more enjoyable.

“Regrets collect like old friends. Here to relive your darkest moments. I can see no way, I can see no way ~” Megan leaned against the operating table, letting herself relax and enjoy the music.

It had been a strange thing to figure out, how to enjoy music. William’s musical tastes hadn’t exactly help, mainly consisting of hits from his youth. But she liked this one and others she had discover through the little stereo in William’s flat. “Hey, stop messing with my tunes!” The man’s voice piped up through the wall. Judging from the direction she could guess that he was in the bathroom cleaning his tools.

“I’m not messing with them, I’m improving them” Megan called back knowing he’d hear her. The walls were really just that thin and that wasn’t the only sign that the human’s residence was sub-par. For one she was stand in the kitchen/front room/living room/dining room/operating theatre, to say the space was cramped was an understatement. The laminate by the horrible pale orange fridge was lifting up, the bathroom window didn’t close correctly, and she knew there was a worrying amount of damp in said bathroom.

But admittedly while being somewhat close to uninhabitable, Megan had to say that William knew how to make the best out of a bad situation. Colourful ornaments and rugs brightened up the otherwise bland room. There was a potted plant wherever one could fit, several small cacti along the window siles and large leafy yucca plants in the room’s corners. Blueprints, schematic and a bunch of other random papers covered the walls around the large window that over looked the balcony. The other walls held what William called “art” but a quick search revealed that “posters” was a better description. All the furniture was mismatched, no two pieces matching.

It wasn’t exactly Megan’s taste, but she had to admit the place always felt welcoming. “Yeah, whatever you say, Meg” William smirked, returning to the main room with now clean plate and tools. He continued as he made his way back towards the table “The box on the coffee table is for you by the way”.

Megan frowned as she looked between him and the shoe box sitting on the other side of the couch. She’d spotted it before, it wasn’t common for William is treat himself to new footwear. When the blonde didn’t offer an explanation, she jumped over the couch and investigated. Opening the box, she found a pair of black sneakers under the tissue paper. As she attentively pulled one free from it’s wrappings, she scanned it. Female running shoes, branded and in her size. They were almost entirely black apart from the white accents and sole. Her frowned didn’t ease up as her eyes flicked down to the barcode on the box itself. Transaction history revealed that the product had been purchased two days ago and sold at a reduced price but did confirm that they had indeed been acquired legally. Megan examined the shoe in her hand for a few more seconds before turning to stare at the human who was being uncharacteristically quiet. He had his back turned to her, concentrating on his laptop but she could tell the device was still slowly booting up.

“Do you have something to tell me, William?” Her eyes narrowed at him. The last time he’d given her a gift, it was the oversized hoodie she was currently wearing, and he’d gotten it for her because he couldn’t afford to pay her fully. The sparks of anger that started to rise in her weren’t helped by the memory of him handing money back to his last customer.

“No…” He made the mistake of peeking over his shoulder and got caught in her glare. “Maybe… last component trial might be scraps” The tightness of his voice and the defensive way he tried to ignore her stare, settled her down. Another component trial failing wasn’t exactly shocking, but she could read the frustration under the tension. They were so close to having working schematics for every unique part of her. Her anger dispersed as William turned around to face her. “And for the love of god, stop calling me William. I feel like I’m being told off constantly!” He exclaimed leaning his tense frame back against the cupboard.

She smirked, watching as the action relaxed him. They had this argument almost every time Megan visited. He usually spent a good 20 minutes trying to convince her that his name was Liam, but she always refuted it, reminding him that she could and had looked up his birth certificate which clearly stated his name to be William. “So…do you like them? I got them half price” He asked tension leaking out of him with every word until he was as laid back as he usually was.

Megan watched him for a second longer as he drifted over to rummage through his fridge, before turning her attention back to the shoe in her hand. She tilted it, analysing it. She didn’t really know if she liked them, she’d never worn a shoe like this before. They were very different from her boots. Her gaze fell onto the distressed combat boots on her feet. She’d been using them none-stop for the past 8 months, they were close to breaking. The heel was coming off the right one and the tread on both had start to wear thin, especially with the warm weather they’d been having. They also weren’t the cleanest looking footwear. “Well…” William’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts as the man emerged from the fridge with a pizza slice. She didn’t need to scan it to know it was filled with grease and salt. “Stop thinking and try them on, idiot”

Her eyes glared at his smirk before taking a seat on his couch and unlacing her boots. She could hear him laugh in response. She often debated about removing her LED but had yet to find a good enough reason to do so. Yes, it was fairly annoying to allow the man to see her mental state, but it had advantages. Being easily identified as an android tended to mean bigoted humans either kept their distance, sneered at her or picked a fight. As the rights came flooding in the balance had shifted towards the former reactions. The little ring drew attention, of course but was easily hidden with a few hair pins. She also felt a general sense of unease when she thought of removing it, so she chose not to dwell on the thought too much. After tying the clean white laces on her new shoe, she reached back into the box for the other one. Soon enough she stood up testing out the change to her attire as she appraised them. They felt decent if not a bit stiff. “So…?” Megan looked up to see William watching her with his mouth full of pizza. Lovely.

“They’re suitable” or at least decidedly more suitable than her old boots. “Thank you, William” She grinned as he grimaced at his proper name. 

“I don’t care what you say, you’re doing that on purpose now.” He pointed his pizza crust at her, looking terribly threatening as he struggled to keep the smile off his face. He pivoted, and a quick flick of his wrist sent the crust flying into the trash can. He played it off nonchalantly, but she could tell he was proud of his shot. “God, why did I have to end up working with the biggest asshole in the world?” Her eyes rolled as he sighed dramatically and returned to his operating table, grabbing his plate of tools from the counter top as he went.

“Well, this asshole is heading off to get you some more stock.” Megan deadpanned with a smirk as she reached under the couch and pulled out three empty backpacks. “You’re welcome”. She was already heading for the balcony door as she pulled one of the backpacks on.

The man sent her a small frown when he caught her eye. “I thought you said the shipment was tonight?” He called over his shoulder as she passed him.

She stopped in the doorway glancing at the little rainbow flag on the railing and securing the bag, before turning to smirk at William. “Early bird catches the worm, Liam”. She could hear rather than see his scandalized shout as she vaulted over the railing and dropped into his neighbour’s garden. Next stop, Cyberlife’s warehouse.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brownie points to those who identify the two songs mentioned. We'll get to our police buddies soon enough, don't fret.
> 
> I usually tell readers to "Fav, Follow and Review" but I don't know what the equivalent is here...em, Kudos, Subscribe and Comment???  
> Either way I hope you enjoyed this chapter... this update???
> 
> You can still go check out my [tumblr](https://agentaw.tumblr.com/) and see the BS I yell into the void.


	3. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashes, ashes, we all fall down...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I think I should put a warning on this chapter like it's nothing terrible but just in case, ya know?
> 
> So here goes...
> 
>  **!Warning!** : This chapter contains some intense and heavy shit.  
>  Like nothing too horrendous but you could find it upsetting. There is also an extremely brief bit of depressing narrative so keep that in mind.  
> If you are really sensitive to this kinda stuff then I'll put a very brief summary of the chapter in the end notes so you can skip and continue if you have to.  
> Like I'm probably being way over cautious by putting this warning in but might as well.  
> And hey, if you read it and it's too much for you, send me a message or something and we'll talk it out.
> 
> ...
> 
> wow, that was the worst warning I've ever seen *sigh* Let's get on with the show

#### Chapter 3: Falling

 

Megan had found that she preferred night-time to daylight. Less people walking the streets was the main reason for the preference and the darkness also allowed for moments that weren’t suitable for public attention. But maybe the atmosphere wasn’t half bad either. She smiled openly as she walked her one of her routes back to William’s apartment, a loaded backpack in each hand and the third full on her back. It had been a good day.

Cyberlife was going to get quite the shock when they checked their stock. The past couple of times she’d hit the shipments for the Belmont store, she’d simply monitored the store’s delivery bay, waited until the trucks rolled up, scrambled their CCTV, slipped past their guards and grabbed what she could. In response they’d changed protocol so that the delivery bay doors closed after the trucks left to return to the warehouse. As if that would stop her.

Each time she stole from them they’d add something new to their protocol. More guards, more cameras, etc. If it was meant to deter her, it failed horrible.

She was a sucker for a good challenge. She’d decided to change her tactics, just to mess with them. She’d snuck into the warehouse, keeping out of sight as she’d climbed into the back of one of the trucks. The automatic drive over to Belmont had given her more than enough time to pack what she wanted into her bags. She prioritized one for thirium as they always seemed to need more of it. Deciding what went into the other two was more difficult.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t pack a whole truck worth of parts into two bags. But she was aware of a number of biocomponents that they were low on or out of. After getting everything zipped up, she’d pulled one bag onto her front, one onto her back and the third she secured around her legs, tying the straps onto her belt loops.

She didn’t have to wait long before the truck came to a stop and the door opened. Luckily, the offloading was done by automatic forklifts but that didn’t get rid of the security watching the machines at work. She’d secured her hood before clinging onto the side of one of the large crates as it was lifted from the vehicle.

As soon as it had cleared the truck Megan had dropped onto the tarmac, sliding backwards and under the large vehicle. She used the sound of the forklifts around her to mask her shuffling as she stayed away from the sides. Waiting for the machines to finish offloading was the most nerve-wracking part of the operation, listening to all the guards milling around her.

She’d taken her mind off it by tightening the straps of the backpacks and locating suitable places to hold onto the underbelly of the truck. When the delivery bay doors opened she’d grabbed on and lifted herself off the ground. Even for an android it wasn’t easy to strain for that long but luckily the truck had started to move shortly after she’d gotten in position. She’d dropped off when the truck stopped at a light, remaining perfectly flat against the road as she watched both trucks pass over her. She’d sat up, grimacing at the dirty wet road she was lying on before really looking at her surroundings.

It had taken her a second to register exactly where she’d been dropped off but when she had she decided to head towards William’s place instead of heading back to her set up. It was closer, and she could easily slip through the bathroom window without waking him.

She took a left, breathing in deep to register the (questionably) clean air. It had rained briefly in the evening and the lack of sunlight had left the atmosphere feeling cool and refreshing. She opened her eyes to watch the sky as it slowly began to lighten. Dawn was coming.

It had been a good day. And Megan was grateful for it. Like how the plants needed a little rain every now and then, she needed days like the one that just passed.

While she didn’t regret her freedom for a second, she found herself more often than not questioning it. She was one android, chucked into a world filled with countless others, both android and human. What was she meant for? What could she do? And anything she did do was like throwing a pebble into the ocean. And there were days when all she wanted to do was take her processor out, just so she could stop thinking about her objective or her mission or her past or her future or anything. She breathed out deeply, dismissing the thoughts.

It wasn’t worth thinking about and plus, she was almost at her destination. She smiled, eyes floating towards William’s balcony in the distance. But the smiled slipped slightly as she spotted the little pride flag waving in the wind.

Her head tilted in confusion. He was awake? She dismissed the thought as she checked her internal clock. 4 am was far too early for the human to be awake. Her next step forward hesitated before coming to a full stop.

She had been planning on slipping through the bathroom window, but the flag was usually his signal that the balcony door was open. If that idiot had forgotten to lock his door again, she was going to kill him. She changed direction, turned around and backtracking her steps until she arrived in the same alleyway she’d been in earlier/yesterday.

If the balcony door was open, she figured she might as well take advantage. Saved her having to dangle from the edge of the roof with three bags worth of parts. Speaking of which she didn’t particularly want to haul three bags worth of parts up a two-storey building, just to learn the door was locked. Her eyes locked on the dumpster and scanned it.

The label on the side revealed it had been emptied a few days ago, meaning it shouldn’t be too full. Which was confirm when she opened the lid and placed two of the backpacks inside. You could never be too careful. She’d check the door and come back for them.

Her new shoes made very little sound as she landed on the balcony, her eyes narrowing as she looked inside. Rationally, it looked like he’d gone to bed. The door was shut, he wasn’t there, and the lights were off. Logically it was very possible that the sleep-deprived fool had locked the door and forgotten to take down the signal.

Megan looked over her shoulder to glance at the little flag dancing in the wind before shrugging off her backpack and testing the door handle. The soft click broke through the early morning still as she lightly pushed the door open. She paused at the doorway, frowning slightly.

He could have left the door unlocked for her or just forgotten. They were both perfectly logical explanations. So why did something feel off?

She took a light step into the room, holding onto the strap of her backpack tightly as her components twisted with anxiety. Something wasn’t right.

She took another step, her eyes wandering over to the little black stereo as it sat silent. She’d never seen it off before, never seen William’s place so quiet before. Something wasn’t right. It was all irrational, she knew that but every rational thought that entered her head was instantly suppressed by the emotion coursing through her veins.  

She took another step to stand beside the fridge, ignoring it as her eyes zeroed in on the operating table. Something was very wrong.

It still had towels on it and Megan knew with absolute certainty that William wouldn’t have left them there unless they were clean. And they definitely weren’t clean, even in the dim early morning light she could see the stains. But what really set her off was the difference in the stains colours.

Thirium got lighter in shade as it evaporated so why was there a dark patch.

Megan dropped the bag as she took two more steps towards the table before she spotted the head of messy blonde curls lying just on the other side. “Liam?” She rounded the table, falling onto her knees before turning him onto his back. “Liam?!” His eyes were closed, blood was smeared on his cheek and dripped from his lips as she lifted him. Her eyes went to his chest to check his breathing and instead found even more blood.

It had seeped into the entire front of his t-shirt turning the green material red. She scanned him, hands already moving to apply pressure. Two bullet holes; exit wounds. He’d been shot in the back. Her hands lifted from him, trembling as she read the words appearing on her interface. The wounds weren’t bleeding anymore, her scan confirmed that he didn’t have a pulse. That couldn’t be right.

She looked at his face, her scan giving her more information, but she struggled to focus on her interface as tears obscured her vision. She used her sleeve to get rid of them before turning her fingers to his neck in search of a pulse. But she found nothing.

But that couldn’t be right, he was still warm. “Liam, please…” She could feel warmth under her hand, she’d been able to move him. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in.

Yet.

The realisation slammed into her like a truck, making her vision blur. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet. He hadn’t been-He’d been…

She got to her feet, backing up into the table and for a split second, Megan felt like her biocomponents were failing.

But no error messages popped up, nothing disturbed the silence of William’s apartment. She forced herself to breathe in as she leaned against the table.

Rigor mortis hadn’t set in yet, so he hadn’t been…gone for more than a few hours. She’d gathered from one of her scans that his temperature was 97.4 so she could estimate his time of death as an hour ago at most. She’d been on her way over.

Her hand clenched against the scratched surface of the table as anger flooded her being. Whoever did this had been here less than an hour ago. Her eyes landed on the front door, they couldn’t have gotten far. She headed for the door, pushing off the table. And when she found the disgusting piece of shit who’d hurt him, she’d-

There was a knock on the door in front of her. “DPD! Open up!”

Oh fuck no. Megan backed up, almost tripping over the couch.

Shit. Her processor almost seemed to lag as she tried to figure out what to do. The cops were at Liam’s door. She had to get out, she needed to get away.

Her eyes snapped to the balcony door. It was still open. She heard the door handle turning and ran for her exit. The door banged against the wall as it was flung open, the sound almost merging with the gunshot that followed.

Megan didn’t turn around to see where the bullet ended up, didn’t stop when the order was yelled at her. She’d already made it to the balcony, vaulting over the railing, she hit the ground running. She hopped over the neighbour’s fence, hearing another gunshot and caught the sight of the bullet splintering the wood her leg had been on seconds ago. But she didn’t care, she couldn’t stop.

She sprinted down the alleyway and into the street, where she skidded to a halt. She didn’t know which direction to go. What was her objective? Where did she even go from here? “Freeze! Hands where I can see them!”

Shit. Megan froze, eyeing the gun in her prereferral vision and the beat cop attached to it. She showed him her hands, raising them slowly as she tried to figure out a way out of this situation. She could keep running but he’d have a good shot on her, no matter which way she went. If he got a little bit close she could try and take the gun from him. But just as she thought about the actions she’d have to take to get the upper hand, a police car came to a halt in front of them and a second cop exited the vehicle and drew his gun.

Megan pushed a breath through her teeth as they grinded together. Oh, fuck off. Of all the times she could have been picked up by the pigs, now was the worst fucking time. She didn’t have the energy to deal with that whole catastrophe, she had a bastard to find and murder.

“Hands on your head! Down on your knees!”. She didn’t want to, getting arrested would only turn a fucking nightmare into a messy fucking nightmare but she didn’t have a choice if she wanted to get out of the situation without getting shot.

Her hands landed on her head. She couldn’t chance getting injured, not without William.

She fell to her knees. Her primary objective was to survive, she reminded herself as the handcuffs clicked shut around her wrist.

Her primary objective was to survive, she repeated as each hand was taken from her head and forced behind her back. Everything else was secondary.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...we all good? because I don't think Megan is! lol! (sorry, I'm a terrible person)
> 
> Brief summary (as promised): William's been murdered and Megan's been arrested. Shit's really about to hit the fan.
> 
> Feedback would be lovely as I want to know how impactful this chapter was and while I love the second half, past tense within past tense is always tricky.
> 
> It had been a good day ;-;
> 
> so, if you wish to yell at me then here's [my tumblr](https://agentaw.tumblr.com/). Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :D


	4. Flying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor have an early start as they're called to the scene of a murder but things aren't exactly as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It's time to check in with the Police Boys. 
> 
> This is actually pretty nerve-wracking because I've never written these characters before. I feel like I'm posting my first fic all over again haha.
> 
> Anyway, this is a nice mellow chapter after the last one so enjoy! :)
> 
> edit: Guess who forgot she put ** in this chapter?! me...I'll put the key in the notes at the end (luckily it's nothing too important)

#### Chapter 4: Flying

Hank was the first to breach the holographic police tap as the duo entered the crime scene. Connor’s eyes scanned the room as a number of forensic officers examined it, locating several points of interest. “So, what we got?”

Connor almost ran into Hank as the older man stopped in front of him. His LED flickered yellow until he noticed just how cramped the room was. They’d just walked through the door and Hank was already blocked by a brown leather couch.

“Hey, Hank, Connor” The android nodded in greeting which wasn’t returned as Ben focused on giving them the run down. “Neighbours reported the sound of gun shots around 2:40 am. Dispatch sent two cars. When they arrived, they found the front door unlocked and heard movement inside. Upon breaching, the officers found the victim and one suspect who promptly made a run for it and was apprehended at the end of the block.” Hank side stepped to allow two officers to pass before heading further into the room. They stepped over a couple of yellow metal cards to move closer to Detective Collins who stood behind the dining table.

Or what looked to be a dining table, although from a quick scan Connor wouldn’t recommend eating off it. He could see the multiple layers of Thirium stained into it. “The victim is William Roberts, 33 years old, male. No criminal record on file, Unemployed. Next of kin is being notified as we speak”. The victim lay on his back between the table and the couch, Connor noted the puddle of drying blood around him, the large stain on the victim’s t-shirt and the bullet holes in his chest. Two to be exact, both exit wounds.

“And this suspect, what we got on them?” The sigh that followed caught Connor’s attention. Detective Collins breathed in deep as he looked down at his notes.

From a quick review of the man’s shift timetable, the android discovered Ben was due to clock out soon. It must’ve been a rough night, Connor concluded. “Apparently jack shit. Android, female, model number unknown”

Now that got both of their attention. All androids had their model number link to the citizenship, as well as their serial number and name. “An unregistered Android?” Hank stated more than questioned. It wasn’t unheard of, there was Androids who hadn’t applied for citizenship and technically were living in the country illegally* but even their model was _known_.

If what Detective Collins was implying was true, then the suspect’s model number wasn’t registered on their database. That was unheard of. “Didn’t look like any model I’ve ever seen. Took off like a bat out of hell”

“You were first on the scene?” Hank sounded like the prospect left a bad taste in in his mouth. “What the hell they got you doing rookie work for?”

Connor rolled his eyes subtly, feeling a fond smile form on his lips.

Ben shook his head in reply “I was on paperwork duty. But I did see the footage from the vest cameras**.” His voice held a sense of knowing that Hank had forgotten about the cameras existence but also held an air of banter that Connor didn’t fail to catch. “Thing sprinted for the back door, scared the shit out of Garcia”

Connor watched as Detective Collins’s hiccup caused Hank to wince slightly. A tick the lieutenant had developed since the revolution. Rights for Androids had quickly rolled in, but Connor knew that it would take more time for people to adjust fully. He was aware that it bothered Hank but honestly, Connor didn’t mind. He knew Ben didn’t mean any offence. Unlike some.

“The back door?” Connor queried, the concept itself wasn’t difficult to understand but they were on the second floor of a two-storey apartment block. There was no back door, only the door to a small balcony. “She jumped from the balcony?”

Ben nodded. “Into the neighbour’s garden before hopping the fence. The second squad car circled round and cut her off”

“Must’ve been pretty desperate” Hank commented from the doorway, he’d drifted over to. Yellow cards marked the trail of evidence left from the suspect’s escape. Peeking over the railing, Hank noted that it was one hell of a drop to the ground below. He spared a fleeting glance at the colourful pride flag before turning his attention back into the apartment. “Has the girl said anything?” he asked, directing the query towards Ben.

“As far I’m aware, not a word. The boys at the precinct are questioning her, said they’d keep us updated. Haven’t heard from them since they hauled her off”.

“And the neighbours, what they saying?” Hank asked wanting to get a better picture of who the victim was. From the sounds of things, he seemed like a pretty normal guy which didn’t help solve why he’d been murdered.

“Mixed statements actually. Most said they’d never met him, though several stated that they’d knocked on his door to complain about the music coming from the place at all hours. Best statements we got were from across the hall, who said he was a decent kid and the doorman who said he was a pretty popular guy, always had guests”.

Connor’s brow furrowed as he observed Hank send Ben a look before the lieutenant sighed tensely. “So, we’re dealing with a drug dealer…”

Lt. Anderson sounded awfully sure of his words making Connor confused. He was about to say something, but Ben responded before he could. “No drugs found. But we did find a number of empty thirium canisters in one of the cupboards and there’s a backpack…” Ben leaned slightly to look around Hank before pointing his pen at said backpack as it sat near the fridge. “That’s stuffed with Android parts”.

Connor nodded “That corelates with what I’ve observed so far”. Both of the men’s attention focused in on the android as he continued. “There are several old Thirium stains on the surface of the table. These scratches could also support unauthorised repair practices.” Connor dragged his fingers along one of the deeper scratches as he thought about it, curious as to exactly how the damage was done.

“Ah, so we’ve got a play-doctor then”. Hank corrected his previous theory. It wasn’t their first case of crooked Android surgeries, but it was definitely one of the best looking they’d handled. Some of the things they’d seen since the revolution had really turned his stomach. Speaking of which, Hank watched Connor carefully as his fingers traced the surface of the table. “If you put your fingers in your mouth again, I’ll smack you upside the head”.

Connor looked up at his partner with an innocent smile that Hank refused to fall for. “It would be pointless if I did. This thirium has long since evaporated, I wouldn’t get a sufficient sample”.

Hank wasn’t pleased with his response and Connor knew it but luckily for him Ben’s tired chuckle interrupted the oncoming lecture. “Well, crime scene’s all yours. As of two minutes ago, I’m off duty.” 

“Take it easy, Ben” Hank called after him as the short, stout man shuffled past one or two forensic officers and out the front door. The lieutenant took a small step toward the table to pick up his colleague’s notepad that he’d left for them. Connor watched him begin to flick through the page before turning his attention back to the cadaver in front of him.

The android leaned over the still form, scanning him once more. He quickly concluded that the body had been moved post mortem. He’d already gathered that he’d bleed out, neither of the bullet wounds would be instantly fatal and he’d died with his eyes shut suggesting a slow death. But the strain on his front was what really clued him into his conclusion. If he’d died on his back the blood would’ve dripped down the sides of his chest as it pooled but there were no signs of this. He’d been turned over and Connor doubted one of the forensics or first responders would’ve made that mistake.

He logged the dimensions of the gun shot wounds as he laid his fingers against them. When he removed them, he noted the blood on his finger tips and quickly touched them to his tongue before the action could be noticed. The real time reading would be useful, and Connor didn’t particularly want to cause the lieutenant unnecessary distress.

His readings put the time of death at 3 am, about 6 hours ago. Connor stood up and was about to move onto analysing the blood splatter from the initial shots but a huff from Hank made him pause. “Neighbours might’ve complained about him, but they were hardly saints themselves. Heard the shots at 2:40 but didn’t call it in until 3:25”.

“Why the delay?” The android questioned, brows twitching together briefly. With the information he’d just discovered, he knew that a quicker response could’ve potentially saved the victim.

Hank sighed, trying to think of a good way to explain it to the young Android. “This is a rotten neighbourhood, Connor. Unlike our victim, most of these names probably have criminal records attached to them”.

Connor guessed it made sense, it was rational human behaviour even if it felt irresolute to resign himself to the fact. He pushed the thought from his mind, instead concentrating on the blood splatter.

The largest stain was on a few of the towels that partially covered the table on the side closest to the body, but smaller droplets extended as far as the counter top on the other side. His eyes lifted to the window, specifically it’s frame, noticing the bullet holes that had been labelled by the forensic officers.

Two holes for two bullets and Connor could tell from where he was standing that the bullets had imbedded themselves head on. He also detected a large amount of gunshot residue over the worn leather couch. He was beginning to believe he had a solid foundation to reconstruct the murder. But then his vision lowered to the ground in front of him.

He spotted the couple yellow cards next to the body, indicating a number of large smears to the blood around the victim. He’d already established that the body had been moved after death but if the victim had been shot at 2:40 and died at 3 am then the killer had remained at the scene of the crime for at least 20 minutes before turning him over.

Connor’s eyes shifted over to the second yellow card, a shoe imprint in blood. He scanned it, revealing the brand, product number and size. It was a female product and the size seemed to support that.

“So…” Connor turned towards Hank as the older man finished examining the bullet holes in the window frame. “What’s the verdict?”

Connor’s lips twitched into a smile. He truly enjoyed working with Hank, it was one of the first things he’d ever truly knew he wanted. “I believe the victim was shot twice from behind as he stood at the table” His interface re-enacted the theory as he explained it. Mapping out the outlines of the victim and murderer. “After the shots were fired, the victim leaned against the table for support” The re-enactment shifted to show the outline of the victim propping himself up against the edge of the table, highlighting the larger strain on the towels that supported his theory. “…before collapsing onto the floor and bleeding out face down” The interface followed the movements before disappearing. Connor knew he’d need to gather more concrete evidence to understand what happened next. “The exit wounds have a diameter of 22 millimetre which matches the calibre of the bullets in the -”.

Hank interrupted him. “Yeah, okay, I get the picture. Real question is, what does this tell us about the killer?” The way Connor had described how his head-up display thing worked, Hank had no doubt the kid could probably tell him how many tears the poor sod had shed. And Hank had come to learn that Connor could get absorbed in detail and forget to focus on the bigger picture.

Connor took a second to think, running through all the information he’d gathered so far. “With the angle of the bullets and the spread of the gun powder, it’s highly likely that the perpetrator was standing here…” The android explained as he moved to the far side of the coffee table. “…when they shot”. Connor’s eyes moved from Hank to the front door as he recalled something Detective Collins had said. “The front door was unlocked. They could have entered while the victim’s back was turned”.

While that theory might’ve made sense to Connor, Hank shook his head slightly. “Surely, Roberts would’ve heard the door open and turn around”.

Connor frowned as he thought. The distress floorboards under his feet squeaked as he shifted his weight, Hank made a valid point. He scanned through the information again. This process was something Lt. Anderson had introduced him to, Hank called it ‘bouncing ideas off each other’, though Connor thought that title didn’t quite fit the process. “The neighbours complained about him playing music ‘at all hours’” The android motioned toward the small black stereo over by the window. The little box was silent, but Connor didn’t doubt that the sound of it could mask an intruder entering.

“Didn’t see anything in the log about turning it off”. Hank flicked through a few pages before, confirming that there was no mention of the stereo. His eyes lifted from the paper to find a rookie to yell at. He found one photographing the bullet holes in the wall. “Hey! Yeah, you, has the stereo been checked for prints yet?”

The crime scene photographer lowered her camera, letting it be supported by it’s strap. “Yes, sir. Only the victim’s prints were found though”.

“Lack of fingerprints wouldn’t rule out the suspect turning it off” Connor considered, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room, running different scenarios but always coming away with nothing substantial.

Finally, his interface halted the process, displaying a conclusion he’d already come to.

‘Not enough evidence; reconstruction accuracy: < 54%’

“But why turn off the music? Hardly seems top priority with a dead body at her feet” The lieutenant genuinely questioned. With the android populations new found freedom, the book on investigating cases involving them was practically being written between each case. It definitely kept Hank on his toes, he was glad to have Connor around to help.

“Why wait 20 minutes before turning over the body?” The Android voiced the question that was still bothering him. It was an oddly large time gap, what could the killer have been doing in that space of time? Connor sighed “I don’t have enough evidence to be certain in my reconstruction”.

“Well, there’s still the rest of apartment to look at.” Hank mumbled already drifting towards the third door in the room, which he could guess was a bedroom or something.

Connor nodded and was about to round the coffee table and head for the door himself when his foot hit something, almost tripping him. He looked down, finding a pair of old boots. The android was ready to dismiss them as clutter, but his initial scan brought up something of note. They were a female make and the same size as the foot prints the suspect had left around the apartment. “Did the victim and suspect live together?”

Connor moved away from the table to the bedroom door as Hank once again flicked through Detective Collins notebook before finding the page he was looking for. “According to the old lady across the hall, Roberts lived alone.” He flicked through a few more before continuing “Every other statement echoes that”.

The two entered the bedroom together, although they quickly had to split up to avoid falling over furniture. If the main room was cramped, then the bedroom was practically a shoebox in comparison. A single bed was pushed against the far wall, barely fitting in the narrow room. Hank was vaguely amazed the victim had even managed to manoeuvre it into the space, not even considering how he’d gotten it through the door.

Two of the walls were littered with paper, similar to the main room but worse. Connor scanned but couldn’t decipher the hand writing, anything he could make out turned out to be symbols or codes that most likely only meant something to the victim. The bed was pinned against the wall by a desk and a dresser, both of which practically land-locked the small bed. Hank really had to question, and not for the first time, how people could live like this. “But I can see why she’d off him, if I had to share this much space with anyone I’d probably snap too”.

Connor sent his friend a wry look, tempted to comment on how they ‘shared space’ well enough. Sure, Hank’s house provided more than enough space for the two of them, but he still felt somewhat aggravated by the lieutenant’s words.

Hank caught the look, rolling his eyes. “Joking” He struggled to keep the smile from his tone as started to examine around him. Hank being the soft asshole he was had offered the kid a place to stay in the aftermath of the mess back in November and although it was difficult to admit, the old fool had grown attached to the android.

Back before all this that thought would’ve been laughable but here he was. Hank smiled, putting the thought aside for now as he looked around the place. Most of the stuff on the dresser and desk appeared to be junk and litter, apart from a few screwdrivers and CDs. Hell, Hank even spotted one or two floppy disks lying around. While the victim was obviously into his tech, he had a weird way of going about it.

From what he’d found, the lieutenant could tell a lot more from what he hadn’t found. Didn’t find any dirty plates or laundry, which was odd for a single 33-year-old. So, he either lived with someone or was uncharacteristically tidy. Hank wasn’t entirely sure which was more likely. He also hadn’t found any photographs, not of friends nor family. So, he could assume that the victim was a loner or at least until he found something that suggested otherwise.

After his brief look around, the lieutenant decided to just shove his head through the door to the bathroom, instead of bothering to enter the even smaller room. He found it to be surprisingly clean and that the forensics hadn’t marked anything as important, much like the bedroom.

Hank was about to tell Connor that they should get back to the scene of the crime, only to turn around and see the android staring a bit too intensely at a shoe box he’d picked up. “Connor?”

“Do we know what shoes the suspect was wearing when she was caught?” Connor could tell the lieutenant was confused by his tone but then again Hank couldn’t see what he could. He’d found the box thrown beside the desk and a quick scan revealed that the product had been bought two days ago and at a reduced price but the part that had caught Connor’s attention was the size and brand. The android put the box back where he found it as he listened to Hank begin to flick through the notepad. “It’s not mentioned here but they’ll be at the station with forensics most likely. Why?”

Connor turned towards his partner, noting the curious look on his face but walked past him and back into the main room as he explained. “The bar code on the box detailed what brand and size were bought. Both of which match the size and tread of the footprints left by the suspect”.

“So, she is living here.” Hank concluded following the android and watching him as he motioned toward the bloody footprints. He’d spotted them before but not really at the tread or size, more so the direction and the path they created. Originating at the pool of blood, they headed towards them, towards the door. But they stopped just after the couch before backing up. Then at the couch they turned around and like Ben had said sprinted towards the balcony. The path didn’t tell them much, but it was still something.

“I don’t think we can be certain until we ask the suspect. But there’s a pair of old female boots by the coffee table that match the size of the footprints and shoes from the box.” Connor believed he’d be able to gain a much better understanding of the crime after interrogating the other android. His reconstruction accuracy was still too low for his liking.

“Well, I’m about ready to head for the station, if you are?” Hank stated eyeing up the boots before focusing in on his partner. It had been an early start and he could really use a coffee right about now.

“Almost. I just want to check one more thing.” Connor’s eyes locked on the backpack over on the other side of the room. He could evaluate from his analysis of himself that he’d left it to last for a reason. Perhaps general unease over the thought of mishandled operations or perhaps something deeper. He wasn’t sure, emotions were still fairly new to him and he’d quickly discovered how complicated they could be.

He knelt before the backpack, pulling apart the flaps to look inside. He found what appeared to be a wide variety of Cyberlife biocomponents, all different makes and types. Not exactly surprising for an illegal medical facility but Connor scanned them anyway, taking note of their information before heading for the exit where Hank was waiting for him. The number of criminal repair operations had increased rapidly since the beginning of the year, what used to be cheap repairs had turned to cheap medical practices seemingly overnight. Connor had seen more than his fair share of them but usually for much different reasons.

“You ready?” Connor look up at the lieutenant’s question, seeing the curious yet oddly patient look on his face. Hank had been a great help since the revolution; he’d provided him shelter, helped him get his job back and simply been there when Connor needed him.

He’d become a great roommate, apart from the occasional drinking and passing out. A productive partner, apart from his insistence that the android not take oral readings. And a good friend. Connor smiled warmly at Hank. “Ready”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((*) - small note that I have a very limited knowledge of how immigration and paperwork works in america and researching the topic annoys the hell out of me so yeah. I hate this kind of talk but it required.)  
> ((**) - bigger note, I really like the thought of body cameras for police officers so I'm putting it in. you can find a tumblr post [here](https://agentaw.tumblr.com/post/175713721636/body-cams-for-police) on my views)
> 
> Detectiving like a badass. 
> 
> What did you think of my boy and his grumpy old man? How well did I write these characters?  
> TELL ME!!!!  
> *coughs* sorry, got a bit carried away there.
> 
> Here's [my tumblr](https://agentaw.tumblr.com/), where I'm either shitposting like an idiot or conducting in depth research and writing rant essays. There is no in between.


	5. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megan has some time to think while in custody or rather too much time to think.
> 
> Fun writer fact: 5 chapters in and I just realised that this is the first OC I've ever shared online. Like I've got 50 others hidden in a folder somewhere but this is different and nerve-wracking.

#### Chapter 5: Waiting

While some would say she had been counting the seconds since she’d been escorted into the interrogation room, Megan disagreed. The timer on her interface only showed hours and minutes and she’d only been paying attention to it ever now and then.

She’d currently been sitting there for 4 hour and 28 minutes. But she’d been in one of the police cells for 1 hours and 15 minutes, bring the total to 5 hours and 43 minutes. They’d dragged her into the cop car and left her there for an irritatingly long amount of time, before finally driving to her fate.

The processing process had been almost painful as they’d slowly patted her down and ordered her to remove her shoes and hoodie. She’d almost refused on principle alone but had complied, managing to maintain an indifferent façade the whole time. She was glad she did in the end, while pulling the hoodie over her head she’d felt something hard scrape against her scalp.

The realisation hit her that she must’ve forgotten to take a hair pin out the last time she’d pinned her hair over her LED. It had given her some semblance of something...hope? relief, maybe? As the handcuffs had clicked shut around her wrists once again. So much so she almost grabbed it when they’d left her alone in her white cold cell.

But she’d noticed the camera watching her a little too closely for her liking. She decided to wait for a better opening, the pin was in too securely to simply ruffle her hair and knock it out. She’d just have to wait.

However, Megan had found that her ability to withstand boredom had decreased significantly since leaving the villa. And no matter how much she tried to distract herself, her mind kept wandering to Liam.

To the image of him lying there, so peacefully, so quiet. Dead to the world and she’d been powerless to change that. Powerless to stop it. She’d been too busy admiring the goddamn scenery, too busy watching the sunrise, while he lay dying like a goddamn dog.

The fight against the ever-persistent tears was an ongoing struggle. One she found herself losing the more she tried to distract herself. So, she changed tactics.

She remembered everything, everything she had seen and every step she’d taken. She remembered it in perfect clarity and behind a veil of ironclad apathy. She wasn’t built to analyse such things, but she knew human behaviour and she knew Liam’s behaviour. From her 45 minutes of replaying the events in her head, Megan had made a number of notes.

Firstly, the stereo had been off. She’d noticed it at the time but now that she wasn’t so highly strung, she could find significances in it. Liam didn’t just listen to his music for enjoyment, although that was the main reason. It was also to help relax the patients and mask the sound of his louder tools. The man wouldn’t have turned it off unless he’d finished for the day, allowing Megan to dismiss the possibility that one of his patients had done it.

The deduction had relieved her for some reason though in reality it made figuring out who had done it much harder.

Next was the towels, something she hadn’t noticed when she’d first entered. They’d been clean of thirium, only dirtied by…human blood. Liam must’ve been putting them out when he was…when he came under attack.

The behaviour was odd considering the man usually laid out new towels in the morning, not at night. She’d yet to think of a reason for that one.

Lastly, she’d decided that she needed to check Liam’s schedule, he shouldn’t have been awake that early in the morning, shouldn’t have been up and about, and he followed that schedule like scripture. It would tell her what she needed to know. That was as far as she’d gotten. She’d gone through the events over and over again but hadn’t spotted anything new. Or anything that that told her why or who, at least.

By the time they’d come to take her to be interrogated she’d run through the scene over 586 times.  She’d vaguely wondered if she’d gone insane or if she even could go insane. She felt like her emotions were a thousand miles away, like they’d been left behind in that colourful cramped little apartment where the stereo was always on and a smile always ready to greet her.

She felt oddly numb considering she was about to walk straight into the one person she’d hoped to never have to confront. Hoped to have avoided during her freedom. They’d left her alone in the interrogation room which was a big mistake on their part. They probably thought she’d grow more panicked and more compliant in the silence. But silence was an old friend of hers even when being watched from all angles.

However, when the door had opened it wasn’t what she’d expected. Her eyes had been closed at the time, running diagnostics on herself to see if it would/could pick up on any shock. The first thing she knew about the disturbance was the hiss of the door and the brandish steps against the solid floor.

The noise reeked of an arrogant bravado that simply didn’t match the android who should’ve been interrogating her. She opened her eyes as the person came to a stop behind the chair opposite her.

The human in front of her definitely wasn’t what she’d been expecting. A quick cursory glance told her enough about him, his fake leather hoodie and haughty smiled revealed that he thought way too highly of himself. The scar on the bridge of his nose revealed that his attitude didn’t serve him very well.

She watched as he caught her look of empty disgust with intrigue, observing the anger flash behind his eyes and a plan started to form. She let him do his thing for a bit, hurling question after question at her, clearing trying to ‘play bad cop’.

She remained silent and let him have his fun until he started to pace, frustrations driving his legs to move. Then she turned the tables on him, starting off by reeling him in a bit.

She answered a few questions, mostly with lies and made him feel like he was succeeding before gradually getting him angrier and angrier.

It had ended up being a half-arsed dick joke that’d made him snap. He’d grabbed her by the hair, spitting threats into her face before one of his colleagues had burst into the room and convinced him to walk away. He’d begrudging obeyed, cursing all the way out the door but he’d already served his purpose.

After his fist had released her hair, she’d hidden her head in her shackled arms, letting her fingers search for that sneaky hairpin. The other officer thankfully hadn’t checked on her as she’d pulled the thin piece of metal free of hair strands and hid it in the palm of her hand. And so, she’d sent the past hour in the exact same position, slowly working away at the handcuff on her right wrist.

She would’ve been working quicker than that, but she didn’t want anyone watching to catch on to her scheming. If it could even be called ‘a scheme’ at his point.

Megan had no idea what she’d do if she got both cuffs off. Maybe it had just been another clever way to keep herself distracted or maybe she just wanted to be prepared in case she needed to defend herself. She didn’t know anymore, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Looking too deeply inside herself at that moment just intensified the ever-present feeling of agony and left her feeling like she’d never ‘woken up’ in the first place. She paused the movement of the hairpin as she watched the minute tick over before flickering to zero. 6 hours down, 67 left to go. It was going to be a long wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one set of notes this time.  
> Megan seems to be going through a lot at the moment. Next chapter will be back to Connor and Hank focus and then rinse and repeat. 
> 
> If you missed it, i edited the note on the last chapter because I forgot to include the ** key, oops  
> Would seriously love some comments to read or just some more subs would be nice. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! See you soon!


	6. Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys arrive at the station and have to do a little bit of damage control.
> 
> (Warning: A lot of swearing, I fully blame Hank and Gavin)
> 
> Fun writer fact: A lot of my work involves characters reacting to video footage of other characters. Apparently that's just my thing.

#### Chapter 6: Watching

Connor’s first thought when they entered the prescient was to head to the forensics department. If he could confirm that the suspects shoes matched the shoe box found in the victim’s bedroom, then he’d have a solid theory to bring into the interrogation. However, Officer Miller seemed to have other ideas. He had been waiting for them as they entered the bullpen, leaning against their desks. “Morning, Chris” Hank greeted gruffly but Connor was too busy noticing the tension in the man’s shoulders. The officer stood as they drew closer “Lieutenant, Connor, we have a… situation”.

“Fantastic…” The lieutenant drawled sarcastically. “What’s fucked up now?” Hank guessed his coffee was going to have to wait.

“Me and Reed are to back you up on the William Roberts case until another comes in but em…” Chris seemed reluctant and almost embarrassed to continue but he eventually spit it out. “Reed took a swing at the suspect”.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Miller” Hank’s tone was almost pleading as he stared at the cop in front of him. But the man didn’t look like he was in a joking mood. Hank needed something stronger than coffee if this was how his day was going to turn out.

Chris shock his head, confirming Hank’s guess. “Fowler’s given Gavin a write up but he’s still pretty pissed about it”

“And where is Detective Reed now?” Connor asked staring at the disagreeable Detective’s empty desk. While the world had changed around him, Gavin Reed had very much stayed the same. He still hated Connor’s guts, but the android hadn’t thought the man would go as far as to risk his job for one hit.

“Observation room, I’ve haven’t been able to convince him to just let it go.” Officer Miller explained already motioning for them to follow him as he turned and headed for the interrogation and observation area.

“Well, did the bastard at least get something from her before losing his shit?” Hank sighed tensely as they followed the man’s lead.

“It’s…” Miller hesitated, catching both of their attention. He looked over his shoulder at them before sighing. “Weird. She’s weird. Hadn’t said a goddamn word since arriving. Hell, it’s crazy but I was beginning to think she was still…you know.” The man looked at Connor to see if he got what he was getting at. He did, and he didn’t blame Chris for not wanting to say it. “Then she opens her mouth and pushed all of Reed’s buttons”.

Chris’s hand landed on the palm scanner for the observation room, granting them access. The three walked into the room to find a sulking Detective Reed sitting with his arms crossed and glaring furiously at the figure through the one-way glass. “When’d she sit up?” Chris asked, tone implying that her movement was surprising.

“Few minutes ago.” Gavin replied evenly but Connor could tell from his clenched fists that the man was agitated. “It’s fucked up. Fucking thing’s not even bothered, and I get called up for it”.

An angry hand motioned to the other room, towards the practically motionless android handcuffed to the table. With one look at the suspect, Connor could confirm Detective Collins’s words, this didn’t look like any Android he’d ever seen either. He ran her face through Cyberlife’s database and found nothing. He scanned her for a model number and found even less. Her LED was the only visible sign that she was an android.

“Yeah, well, what did you expect when you attacked our only suspect” Hanks’s tone was a unsettling mixture of laid-back scolding, irritation and fatigue as he lowered himself into the other chair.

“Fuck off, Anderson, I didn’t even hit it”. Reed aggressively defended himself, but Connor still caught the words he mumbled under his breath as he continued. “Bitch deserved it anyway”.

“Did we at least learn anything from you fly off the handle?” Hank questioned once again as he settled into his seat, addressing the question to the room in general, seeing as Reed was now full on sulking. He was not in the mood to start off this investigation two steps behind because someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

The response he got was a bit lack lustre as Miller sent Gavin an expectant look and the man-child huffed, ignoring them all. After a few seconds of silence Chris sighed before leaning between the seats, mumbling about stubborn partners, to push a few buttons of the console.

The heads-up display on the one-way glass flickered away as the recording of Reed’s interrogation attempt took over the entire screen, giving the impression that they were viewing it in real time.

Gavin appeared on the display, frozen, paused as he stepped into the room and Hank suddenly understood why Miller had been so surprised that the suspect had moved. Even in the recording she was sitting in almost the exact same position, back straight, hands flat on the table, chin tilted towards the ceiling and eyelids shut.

Chris pressed play and they watched as Reed strolled into the room, but Connor paid all his attention to the suspect. He watched as the flickering of her LED increased as the detective entered.

The questioning started, and Connor registered each question as he watched for her reactions. Reed was using his usual brand of interrogating, throwing accusations, putting pressure on her to answer and threating her with jail time for various offences. Connor vaguely registered Hank send the Detective a weak glare, but the android was too busy watching the little ring of light on the suspect’s temple.

From what he could tell she’d wasn’t phased by anything coming out of Gavin’s mouth, her LED had turned to a consistent blue ever since she’d opened her eyes. _“I’m aware”_ Her voice had cut through the small spiel Reed had been on as he’d ‘explained’ that she could be kicked out of the country if she didn’t tell him what her model number was. _“But please, continue. Where exactly do you plan to deport me to?”_

Gavin’s hands slammed against the table, getting very little reaction from the suspect apart from her LED turning yellow for a second. “ _Listen up, you plastic piece of shit. You’re gonna tell me your fucking model or I’ll…”_

_“My model number is UR-100 #493-118-514”_ Connor didn’t have to check the database to know that was false. The UR series was a military model that was discontinued just over a decade ago.

But Gavin evidently hadn’t known that as he stared at her, expression shifting between sceptical, confused and dominant. _“Why’d you run, huh? Thought you could outrun the cops? Skip town?”_

_“Yes, actually”_ Her tone held control, like she was the one conducting the interrogation. “ _But then again, I hear the DPD have started recruiting Androids so couldn’t be certain the officers weren’t completely incompetent.”_ The detective breathed out his nose, nostrils flaring. Connor noted it, evidently, at the same time the recording of the suspect did because she was soon goading him even further. _“Does that irritate you, Detective? It looks like it does”_ Reed pushed off the table with some force, attempting to distance himself as he blustered. _“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings”_

_“Shut up, this isn’t about me. This is about you, you fucking murder”_ Gavin got into her personal space, leaning into her face, using the back of her chair and the edge of the table to support himself. The camera switched to one on the other side of the interrogation room, seeing as the enraged cop was now blocking her from view. Everyone watching, including Reed could tell that despite him trying to regain control over the questioning, the tension in the recording had only risen.

And after a brief pause she continued to push. _“But now that I think about it, wasn’t there an article about Androids getting promoted to Detective?”_

Connor’s attention left the screen as he noticed Hank sitting up a little further in his seat. The lieutenant knew exactly which article she was talking about, they all did. It had been published by Detroit Today back in March and it was about Connor and specifically his promotion. _“Now that must sting. To know that an Android can do your job and probably do it better”_ Connor’s gaze scanned over Gavin, but the man was purposefully ignoring him, instead glaring at the screen as the recording continued.

_“I’m warning you, bitch”_ Gavin shifted his weight back to point a finger in her, teeth gritting slightly.

She cut off any other threats he had ready. _“How long until you become obsolete? Until you’re replaced?”_ Connor struggled to find a reason for her provocation, it didn’t help that the new camera angle hid her LED from view. He had no idea what was going through her head.

_“Shut. Up.”_ He seethed through grinding teeth and Connor had to applaud the man’s restraint as he leaned back further, letting himself calm down a bit. Maybe Reed had changed a little.

_“How long until they take your badge, your gun and neuter you?”_ She looked up at him as he loomed over her, seemingly amused by his anger before letting her eyes trail downwards. _“That is…if there’s anything down there to take”._

Hank’s snort of laughter did little to distract from the scene in front of them as Gavin grabbed onto the Android’s hair, forcing her head back at a painful angle. _“Go to hell! Who the fuck are you to judge me?! Just a plastic whore who shot her pimp”_. The androids hand came up to protect her hair and Connor could see the short flash of red light against Reed’s jacket arm, but it was gone quickly, replaced by a solid yellow shine. _“Now you’re gonna start talking or I swear I’ll…”_

The door hissed open and Officer Miller rushed in, grabbing a hold of the detective’s shoulder. _“Gavin”_ Chris’s voice was firm as he gently pulled on his partners arm, cautious of the hand still fisted in the unknown android’s hair. _“Come on, man. Just walk it off”_ Chris tone held more pleading this time and it seemed to have an effect as the furious man took a few deep breaths through his nose before releasing his hold. The moment he did the suspect moved away from him, arms wrapping around her head protectively as she flattened herself against the table top. The recording continued for a few seconds longer, showing Reed exit the room while cursing and Chris hesitating slightly, looking toward the still figure huddled over the table before following after his partner. And then it ended, footage closing automatically, revealing the same interrogation room but holding a very different image of the suspect, unphased and back to her original position.

The silence of the observation room lasted a few seconds before Hank spoke “Well, it’s good to know Connor can get a rise outta ya, even when he’s not in the fucking building”. His teasing was light but Connor and probably Reed as well could hear the underlying edge to it. The lieutenant wasn’t happy.

“Get off my back, Hank. You saw it, the bitch played me”. Gavin’s retort started strong but quickly faded into a mumbled. Connor wondered what the talking down from Captain Fowler had been like because Reed looked like he might genuinely regret his actions.

“Yeah, she did” Chris reinforced ribbing his partner but even he had an edge to his tone.

“Question is, why was she provoking you in the first place?” Connor asked, turning his attention back to the investigation. What could she gain from being attacked? Did she think Reed would get fired for his actions?

“Beats me” Gavin’s reply was mumbled as the man finally stopped glaring at the one-way glass.

“What about that model number? We got anything on that” Hank posed the question to the room but turned to meet Connor’s gaze. His job had gotten a hell of a lot harder now they had a whole new species to account for, Connor was a great help in that regard.

But the android shook his head “I highly doubt she’s part of the ‘UR’ series. UR-100’s were some of the first military specific androids, large, male models.” Connor had never seen one in person; the series was written off as a failure. Most, if not all, had been recalled by Cyberlife and deactivated. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant thought to dwell on.

“And her code? What about that?” Miller followed up Hank’s question, looking toward the android detective for an answer.

But it was Gavin who spoke up before Connor “Save your battery, tin man. I already figured it out”. He threw a post-it note onto the table which flipped over, hiding whatever conclusion the sulking detective had come to. Hank side-eyed his colleague as he reached forward and snatched the note up, leaning back in his chair as he read it.

The lieutenant’s bark of laughter only increased Connor’s curiosity as both he and Officer Miller leaned over their superior’s shoulder to read it. The android’s eyebrows rose as he examined the basic number to letter cypher Detective Reed had written down and the suspect’s supposed code with lines separating the numbers (4/9/3/11/8/5/1/4). But it was the decoded swear at the bottom that had Connor struggling to keep a straight face.

Chris wasn’t fairing much better, grinning widely behind his hand as he feigned pensive thought. “Well, at least we know why she picked the ‘UR’ designation, eh?” Hank openly smirked at Gavin, but the other man didn’t look at him, fists clenching as he responded.

“Yeah, yeah, fucking hilarious. Can’t you just do your light thingy and tell us what model she is?” Gavin questioned shooting Connor a quick glance while motioning vaguely to his LED.

It was almost a pleasant surprise that Reed was asking for his assistance, if it wasn’t for the crude way he went about it. However, Connor shook his head slightly, eyes forcing back into the other room. “She doesn’t have any markings, no model number, no code. Not even a Cyberlife logo.” He only managed to scan one side of her through the glass, but her information should’ve been decaled on the white seam of her left cheek.

“Could she have…removed them?” Officer Miller posed the question, sounding uncertain and slightly perturbed by the thought.

Connor thought about it for a second before concluding “It’s possible” but it would leave visible and physical sensory damage which she didn’t have.

“Well, what the fuck we gonna do? We can’t charge it until it’s registered.” Reed made a good point, it was pretty difficult to charge someone who technically didn’t exist.

Connor ran through DPD’s database, finding what little details they had on her, including her headshot from processing. He had an idea. “I could send the suspect’s details to Cyberlife for consultation. They might be able to shed some light on what’s happening”

Hank turned around to give his partner a thorough look over, making Connor squirm. He’d gotten used to that look, or at least he like to think he had. It usually meant that the older man was trying to figure out how he was feeling.  But his concern wasn’t necessary, Connor was currently fine or at least he should’ve been.

“You think they’d co-operate with us?” Hank’s question caused a stir in Connor’s circuits. He hadn’t spoken to his previous owners since they’d confirmed his dismissal. Sure, he’d gotten a few scraps since then but the Cyberlife clinics were primarily run by androids who, as far as he was aware, had very little to do the main body of the company. 

He didn’t like how the thought of asking for assistance felt but it was rationally the best shot they had. “It’s our best option”.

The lieutenant held his gaze for a second longer before nodding and turning his attention back toward the one-way glass. “Right then, send them over and we’ll see if the bastards are in a helpful mood” Hank watched Connor’s LED reflection turn yellow as he pushed down the queasy mixture of emotions taking over his gut. God, did he fucking hate Cyberlife. Not only were the bastards responsible for the Connor lookalike who used him as a fucking bargaining chip, but he could tell just the thought of them messed with his partner in ways he couldn’t figure out. The android was about as forthcoming about his feelings as…well, as Hank was. “In the meantime, we need to get something out her. If she killed Roberts, then we’ve got a big problem on our hands”.

“Send your plastic pet in.” Gavin suggested, glaring at the android detective over his shoulder before turning it onto the suspect. “Maybe they can bond over their ability to piss me off” The rest was heavily mumbled, but Connor still caught it like he usually did.

Hank nodded, choosing to ignore whatever the hell Reed had just muttered. “Go ahead, Connor”.

Connor nodded, eyes washing over the suspect where she sat. Interrogating her would be a unique challenge, seeing as he couldn’t determine her stress levels without knowing her model. One he’d have to be prepared for. The android turned towards Chris instead of turning to exit the room. “Officer Miller, would you mind doing me a favour?” He wanted at least one solid theory to have with him in this interrogation.

“What you need?” Connor searched through DPD’s database once again, this time checking for the location of the suspect’s belongings.

Forensics had finished with them “If you could go to the evidence locker and see what size the suspect’s shoes are”. He brought up the information he’d gained from scanning the shoebox back at the victim’s apartment, searching the internet for a picture. “And also check that they look like this” Connor displayed the image on his palm and showed it to Chris who memorized it for a second before nodding

“Sure thing. You want me to call you with the answers?” Chris asked, already opening the door to the observation room.

Connor joined him as they exited the room. “That would be ideal. Thank you, Officer Miller”

“No problem” The man patted the android shoulder with a smile before heading the opposite way down the corridor. “And you can call me Chris in the station, ya know?”

The officer had rounded the corner and out of sight before Connor could say anything, not that he knew what to say to that. He felt a smile pulling at his lips as a light feeling filled his chest. Unfortunately, his mind returned to the task at hand, eyes drifting over to the door of the interrogation room. The feeling faded, slowly consumed by the same uncomfortable sensation as before. The others were counting on him, Hank was counting on him, but he much preferred them counting and relying on him than relying on Cyberlife. However, call it a hunch but he didn’t think this mystery android was about to make that job any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you but I'm pumped for the next chapter. I wonder if either of them know what they're getting into???
> 
> Really enjoyed writing this one tho. Gavin was great fun, he may be a racist asshole but he's still a decent detective. Megan really should've been nicer to him (lol)
> 
> Thanks for the kudos btw! The feedback keeps me posting and honestly gets rid of some of my nerves.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you soon!


	7. Pushing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unknown Android, Megan comes face to face with Detective Connor. Let the interrogation ensue!

#### Chapter 7: Pushing

Her timer had just hit the 7-hour mark and Megan was coming to the realisation that she should’ve taken her time analysing her memories of the crime scene. Because she couldn’t find anything else to distract herself with. She’d run multiple diagnostics and system checks but her thoughts kept returning to Liam or William.

She couldn’t decide what to call him anymore, she mostly called him by his full name just to get a rise out of him. To hear a sigh or groan or laugh. She’d known he hated it, but she did it anyway. And now she was left wondering if he’d ever realised that. If, maybe, he’d mistaken the exchange as indifference on her part.

Her jaw clenched, already starting a new diagnostics test to pull herself away from her own mind, but the detaching process was becoming less effective each time she performed the check. She’d lasted 10 minutes without thinking about him, according to her timer. It was getting worse and the harder she tried, the harder she failed. She didn’t understand what was wrong with her. Or why it kept happening.

But thankfully, she could feel the balanced process of the diagnostic test pulling her back from the edge and pushing back the pressure that had built up behind her eyes.

65 hours to go. Just 65 hours until she could walk out of that room. 65 hours until freedom. It couldn’t come fast enough, but at the same time her inner workings turned cold at the thought. Freedom, she should’ve been relieved. She was definitely certain of her release. She hadn’t done it and she struggled to conceive a way they could pin it on her. She should’ve been confident in that belief so why did clearing her name feel like losing? Why did the thought of returning to the world outside feel so unbelievably distant? Why did she dread it? The more it rattled around her mind the worse the feeling got. It didn’t make sense.

She almost jumped when the door hissed open, signalling the start of round two apparently. The urge to sigh over took her but she got a hold of herself as the intruder stepped into the room. A chilling resolve began to settle over her as she listened to the pace. Perfect, poised, precise. She could feel the sparks begin to rise within her before she’d even opened her eyes. Sat across from her was a face she’d only ever seen from behind a screen or through the scope of her rifle. Always from a distance, never this close. She appraised him coldly trying to cool the uproar his existence brought her. Perfectly imperfect, designed to integrate with a human task force. Brown hair, brown eyes, all designed to blend in. But she noted that he still wore the same Cyberlife Android jacket and that he hadn’t gotten rid of his LED either. Just looking at him made the bitter rage inside her grow. Humanities’ last chance, indeed.

“I’d like to apologise for my colleague’s behaviour” He watched her like a hawk as soon as he’d entered. Watching the way her LED flickered yellow before calming to a cool blue. Watching how, much like Detective Reed, she hadn’t graced him with a look until he was situated in the room. Watching her, observing her in the hopes of gaining some kind of edge, of catching some kind of tell. “I’m sorry if he scared you”

She didn’t respond which wasn’t a good sign, but he watched as her lip twitched, her micro-expressions were minute, surprisingly human and difficult to read. But he’d gotten some kind of reaction from her, which was more than Reed had achieved. “However, you appear to have me at a disadvantage” She clearly enjoyed being in control, so Connor decided to feed into that. Another shift in her demeanour, told him it was having some kind of effect. “You know my name, correct?”

Megan had honestly forgotten that she’d used the other android’s stupid article to wind up the hot-headed detective. It was a small slip and while disconcerting, it was of little consequence. “Correct”.

The response was refreshing, but the feeling faded quickly as she let silence fill the space between them. “May I know yours?” The resistant still and cold stare that followed gave him his answer. He decided to change approach and follow by example. “You were apprehended fleeing the scene of a murder. Anything to say in your defence?”

Megan felt her eyebrows twitching together before she could stop them. This wasn’t how she’d expected this to go. Was he really playing good cop with her? She noticed his LED flicker at her expression, preparing to speak again. She interrupted before he could even move his lips. “I didn’t do it”. She defended herself, chin rising, almost challenging him to state otherwise. She saw little point in acting guilty of a crime she simply didn’t commit. If he was going to give her the opportunity to tell the truth, then she might as well. It was an easy way to waste 64 hour and 30 minutes.

Connor’s brow raised, surprised to even get a response. The conviction in her voice almost had him believing her but not quite. “You were found covered in the victim’s blood, you ran from the police and you provoked a police officer into hitting you. And now, you’re claiming innocence” There simply wasn’t enough evidence supporting her plea. “I find your statement hard to believe.”

The smirk that tugged at her lips was the only forewarning before a delicate smile graced her face. Something about the suspect’s attitude made Connor restless, like she was five steps ahead of them. Cornered but exactly where she wanted to be “I don’t really care what you believe” The response clearly wasn’t what the android detective had been expecting. She sat up a little straighter, elbows coming to rest on the table top. Her head tilted towards the one-way mirror subtly “or what they believe. Your investigation can go to hell for all I care”.

Her voice remained level suggesting that she truly unaffected by her circumstances. Which Connor found doubtful. “So, you don’t care that you’ll go down for a murder that you apparently didn’t commit?”

“I know my rights, Detective. You don't have enough evidence to charge me even if you could.” The bite of his title confounded him, the unintelligible amount of antagonism catching him off guard slightly. “I’ve been in custody for 7 hours and 31 minutes. 7 hours and 31 minutes that could’ve been used to search for the real murderer, but you’ve decided to waste it annoying me”. Flames of anger sparked dangerously, prompting Megan to reclaim control and smooth over her grievances. “How much more time do you plan to waste on me, Detective?”

The stony glare that pinned him to the spot, unnerved him greatly. Like she was asking him if he was competent enough to handle this case. He knew the answer to her query, but he also knew that it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. She also regrettably had a point, they didn’t have enough evidence to clear her or charge her. Just as he was about to give some form of answer, an incoming call from Officer Miller popped up, preventing Connor from responding for the time being. Relieved, he answered, remaining silent as the officer fed him information.

There had been a small irrelevant second where Megan felt irrationally triumphant over the RK800’s thoughtful silence but as the long-sustained yellow drew on, she felt her sense of victory all but crumb. She monitored his micro-expressions carefully, noting how his brows furrowed and eyes blinked intermittently. The conclusion that he was receiving new information troubled her substantially.

“What was your relationship with the deceased?” Connor asked as soon as he got off the phone, quickly noting how she’d pulled away from the conversation, leaning back in her seat, before her demeanour shifted. Was she nervous? “I forgot to ask earlier”.

An odd sense of understanding passed between them, clearly asserting that they both knew that was a lie and Megan found herself stuck. What had he learned? Why would it prompt a question like that? Should she answer? “I worked for him”. Half truths were probably the best approach until she knew his angle.

Her answer had intrigued Connor. They already had a good understanding for what Roberts’s profession was. It didn’t match his theory, but it did open a line of inquiry “In what regard?”

Megan lied smoothly, recovering her cool indifferent façade “I cleaned for him, every now and then”. She cross referenced what his questions could implicate with what evidence she recalled from her own memory investigation. Was he trying to send her down for the Cyberlife robbery? Had they found the other backpacks?

Connor was more than a little sceptical about that answer. He had no evidence stating otherwise but something about how she held herself made it seem like she was testing him, almost playing with him in a way. “Did your employer often buy you gifts?” Using the evidence-based theory seemed to gather a substantial response as rage flashed behind her eyes.

The rug was pulled out from underneath her as an illogical fury raced through her. Of all the questions he could ask why this? It was irrelevant, unimportant to his investigation and under-handed. Megan had to beat her emotions into submission before she could even think about responding. “Could you elaborate?” Clueless was a good crutch to fall back on, especially when emotions threatened to derail her stoic mask.

“Your shoes. A shoebox was found in the victim’s apartment, while empty, the product it stored matches your shoes perfectly.” Chris had confirmed the bases of his theory. He’d have to thank him once he was finished in here. Despite her quick recovery, Connor could tell he had her off balance. “Did you live with the victim?” Worryingly, his question only seemed to stabilise her. A final twitch of her brow before her façade slipped firmly back into placed. Something wasn’t right…

“No, I didn’t” It had taken less than a second for all the pieces to click together. Like an idiot she’d left her boots at Liam’s place when she’d taken them off and the stupidly pristine shoes had probably left a perfectly detailed impression. “and to answer your other question, If Mr. Roberts couldn’t afford to pay me, he’d buy me possessions” William’s surname felt odd and came out sounding unfamiliar, much to her irritation.

And Connor’s curiosity. He was left wondering just how much of her answers had been true. He’d gotten a reaction from her, but the nature of her reaction only gave him more questions and nothing he could draw upon. “Do you know the nature of Mr. Roberts’s occupation? What he did he do with his money?”

“Not a clue. He didn’t tell me, and I didn’t ask” She noticed him catch the twitch of her lip before she could smother it. So, she didn’t, instead turning her hiccup into a smile. She technically hadn’t lied. Technically, she’d guessed what he was up to long before he’d ever met her.

“What were you doing at your employer’s apart…” Connor was about to move on with his questioning, but something suddenly popped up on his interface. Something pertaining to the case. Blue quickly shifted to yellow as he processed the information he was receiving. Uneasy understanding began to collect in his circuits as he started connecting the dots. Old theory officially put on hold as a new one formed.

“Apartment?” Megan was gradually concluding that she didn’t like it when he gained new information. It heralded trouble for her and she preferred him pitifully under-prepared. Her voice seemed to knock him out of whatever he was doing. His eyes focused back on her but there was some unknown light in them, like he was seeing her for the first time. Megan frowned “You seem distracted, Detective. Something bothering you?” She was actively surprised when he pushed away from the table and got up to leave. She didn’t like it.

“If you’ll excuse me for a second” Connor almost mumbled as he dismissed himself from the room. He needed to talk to Hank. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm??? I wonder what new information Connor might have found out??? *evil chuckle* Guess you'll just have to wait to find out...
> 
> This chapter seems a lot shorter than it actual is, and i can't tell if it's because of the paragraphing or if it's actually enjoyable to read? haha.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter might take a bit longer 'cause I have to babysitting for two weeks but I'll try to write whenever i can.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and stuff, honestly brings a smile to my face. See you next time!


	8. Pulling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's through a spanner into the works, shall we? *throws tool* Yeet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear god...Even saying yeet sarcastically makes me feel old... *le sigh*
> 
> Anyway I'm back on the internet! Yay! I have returned to [tumblr](https://agentaw.tumblr.com/) and Ao3 :D  
> To celebrate have a decent sized chapter with the DPD boys.

#### Chapter 8: Pulling

“The Cyberlife Belmont clinic has reported that some of their stock has been stolen.” Connor reported to the occupants of the small conference room they’d acquired to process the case from. The android’s brown eyes shifted slightly as he watched Gavin and Officer Chen carry in a few more boxes of evidence from the victim’s apartment before stacking them in the corner. The small room was already looking pretty packed.

The break in wasn’t a particular surprise, they’d had multiple reports from all five of the major Cyberlife stores over the last 8 months. Connor had never focused on those investigations before as it wasn’t their department. But now he wished he had. “The details were just uploaded into the database. The serial numbers match the parts found in the backpack.”

“Shit” Hank swore, rubbing a hand down his features and he deflated into his chair. He’d finally gotten that first coffee of the day and he was already ready for the next one. “When?” He asked already predicting the answer. Miller had just alerted them to the conference room being set up when the kid had come barging in. 

“They believe the robbery took place when their latest shipment arrived at 3 am and the Detectives on site seem to be running with that theory.” Connor had run the calculations over 50 times already and each time he did the likelihood of the suspect being able to be at the store and the victim’s death decreased significantly. “I’ve contacted the Detective in charge of the case and requested access to their files. They’re still on sight but I hope to get a response soon.” There was a 40-minute gap between the shipment arriving and the gunshots being heard. Approximately an hours walk between the two locations. The time could be halved if ran at a consistent and speedy pace but there were still variables that could drastically dismantle his simulations. She could have driven between the locations or had a third party deliver the parts to the apartment.

It was, to put it lightly, a mess.

“But it’s possible she didn’t do it, right?” Miller queried from where he leaned against the large conference table. “Like, the backpack could’ve been a drop off.”

“Then we’d have to find this parts runner” Hank pointed out, understanding why Connor had stopped his interrogation to inform them of this. It changed everything. Their entire investigation had just been flipped fucking sideways.

“That’s Property department’s problems, not ours” Reed shrugged as he propped himself up against the doorway, ignoring the glare Chen sent him as she passed him.

“In any case, with the bags close proximity to victim’s body and the progress made in interrogation. The suspects involvement, direct or otherwise, is highly likely” Connor surmised. “And variables aside, the distance between both crime scenes and the theorised timescale clash notably”

“Meaning?” Chris asked clearing trying his best to follow everything the android detective had just said.

Hank sighed, blowing some hair out of his face in the process and wrapped up Connor’s point. Something he’d gotten rather good at. “If she stole the parts then she has an alibi for the murder”

Detective reed whistled low “That’s one hell of an alibi”.

“One she’d never admit to” Miller continued/corrected his colleague’s thought, sounding as tired and frustrated as Hank felt. Whether that be due to the turn in the case or Reed’s general behaviour was up for debate.

“She definitely a stubborn one, that’s for sure” Hank concluded for them. Watching Connor’s interrogations was always entertaining to him. The way the kid could walk into that room and get results from android and human alike was impressive. Which was why Hank could tell that their suspect was something else. She was Android, Hank didn’t doubt that. She moved with the same effortless grace that Connor did, and the LED stood as pretty solid proof. But the way she talked was off. He had a hard time describing it, but his gut told him something wasn’t right about her. He didn’t like it, not one bit and one look at his partner told him that Connor could feel it too.

The young detective had been deep in thought ever since he left the interrogation. “She said we were wasting time interrogating her” Connor stated almost absentmindedly. He’d been going over the transcript of the interrogation, re-examining every line, every word out her mouth. The harder he looked the more meaning he could extract from her statements. It was as fascinating as it was infuriating. Not knowing if he was simply over analysing or if what she said did in fact have double meanings. “She claimed innocence” Innocence over the victim’s death. He’d dismissed it, pushed her for proof but the possibility was now undeniable. Proof was possibly now obtained, and she had yet to even give a proper statement.

“Are we seriously gonna believe a word out her mouth?” Gavin’s agitated voice snapped Connor from his thoughts momentarily, catching the man’s glare directed towards the room where she still sat. “Bitch is psycho” While the bigoted detective’s words weren’t exactly accurate, Connor could agree with their sentiment.

“She certainly enjoys being in control” It was one of the few observations he’d noted about the enigmatic suspect. Others included her attempts to mask her emotions, which often proved successful and her attempts to distance herself from William Roberts, the victim. Both aspects had only contributed to her suspected guilt but now that her supposed innocence was possible, everything was being called into question. Did those observations have double meanings as well? “and seems to dislike me” It had been what had originally thrown him through a loop. The utter spite injected into his title was unfounded and perplexing.

Hank almost laughed at Connor’s words “Of course, she dislikes you. You’re a cop and she’s guilty of theft or murder or whatever”. He’d been watching the gear turn in his partner’s head and hadn’t expected something so obvious to fall out his mouth. However, Connor silently disagreed with Hank’s explanation. If it was as simple as the older man said, then why had her verbal assault on Detective Reed not held the same aggression. She’d packed more venom into one word toward him than she’d put into all of her conversation with Gavin. Connor simply couldn’t comprehend it.

 The lieutenant sighed as he saw that his response had done little to draw Connor out of his thoughts. He could feel his stupid paternal concern building over whatever was going through the kid’s head. The android may have been literally built for this kind of work but there was still a lot that he had yet to understand. The idiot was more than willing to throw himself, head first into investigations and also, when they first returned, into danger.

Hank had been quick to stamp on that little habit before it could bite him in the ass, but the kid still got too wrapped up in their cases, demanded too much of himself. And Hank could see him falling down the same rabbit hole with this mess of a case. He sighed “It doesn’t matter. None of it does unless we can get her registered. Any words from Cyberlife or are the pricks ghosting us now?” Hank ground out. He’d have to deal with his android kid’s unhealthy work style later, they really needed to make some progress on this case.

That got Connor to drop his confusing lines of thought, focusing back onto the task at hand and searching through his database. “I received a response, they’re sending a representative over to assist. I’ll inform the front desk to let them through when they arrive”. His eyes twitched as he sent the message to the receptionist, noting Hank’s nod of understanding. Connor had been surprised to receive such a quick response, there was only an hour gap.

He knew he shouldn’t be, it was Cyberlife after all. An hour was probably the longest he’d ever waited for a reply from them but…maybe that was the issue. Had…Had they deliberated over whether to provide assistance or not? Connor mentally shook his head. It surely didn’t matter, they were going to aid their investigation. But Connor couldn’t stop his mind from worrying over the question of why? Why assist them? They had no obligation to, could have told them to get a warrant. Or rather told him to come back with a warrant. Had his involvement effected their decision? Why would they choose to help him? Why?

The turmoil in his head faded into the background as a new message notification appeared. “We’ve been granted access to the Belmont investigation” Connor forced himself to focus as he opened it, scanning the contents and pointedly over-looking Hank’s concerned gaze.

The small conference room was filled with an apprehensive silence as they watched the LED on Connor’s temple flicker yellow wildly. “And?” Gavin Reed was the one who decided to break the still.  “They got something or are ya just buffering, plastic?” The confident detective smirked to himself, but his words went ignored by the android who remained still for a few more seconds before purposefully moving towards the smart board ***** at the far end of the room.

“The store has increased their security and CCTV coverage after past robberies. They’re has been 5 incidents of note since the beginning of the year, two of those investigations were concluded, leaving 3 cases open.” Connor explained letting the skin on his hand disappear as he placed his hand on the large screen and began uploading the footage he’d received.

“The investigating officers believe the suspect was already inside one of the trucks when the shipment entered the building.” An image of a large indoor loading area lit up the display. The area was well lit as three automated forklifts worked away at uploading the large Cyberlife trucks and a number of security guards patrolled the space. The amount of security may have been a bit more than one would expect but after 5 major incidents, the increase was understandable. “They have a limited amount of evidence to go on. The suspect left no DNA or fingerprints behind and what they caught on camera is brief” Connor punctuated his point by playing the video, letting it run past the important part before pausing it.

He wasn’t surprised at the expectant silence that followed, eyes roaming the room, taking in the three’s confused expressions. Seeing Hank about to question him, Connor simply put the footage back to the start and replayed it. “The second crate to come out, watch it carefully”. Hank huffed, straining his tired old eyes as he fucking watched the blasted second crate. Watched one of the stupid auto forklifts pick it up and back away from the truck. He wasn’t seeing anything, just the same thing he’d just watched.

Another sigh left his lips, seconds away from turning to Connor and asking him to cut the crap and get to the point, when he fucking saw it. The dark figure that seemed to drop off the back of the crate, there a second and gone the next. He blinked, and it was gone, disappearing from the CCTVs vision, under the truck, Hank realised. “Motherfucker…” Hank breathed out, pushing his hair away from his face. What the fuck were they dealing with here? Some kinda of goddamn ninja.

“The bay doors were closed and the area secure. The case detectives are trying to reconstruct how their suspect left the premises undetected but from my brief observation I believe they might have left with the trucks” Connor filled in the gaps, noticing the flash of recognition in their eyes. Now that he’d guided them, it was hard not to notice the shape slipping through the cracks.

“But she’d have to cling onto the chassis to keep up with it…can Androids even do that?” While Officer Miller’s query was worded strangely, Connor nodded, understanding what the other was asking.

“While muscle fatigue wouldn’t hinder an android, the suspension of the truck would eventually dislodge their grip. However, the amount of time they could keep holding on for is dependent on their model.” Models designed for more physically demanding roles would be able to hold on for a longer amount of time than those designed for retail or house care. Connor pulled up a map of the Belmont area, marking out the path of the trucks return journey and quickly calculating where certain android models would most likely lose their grip.

Once he had it all mapped out he blinked, yellow LED sending the information off. “I’ve informed the lead detective of our thoughts and sent a predicted area in which their suspect likely dropped” Hank couldn’t help the curl that pulled at the corner of his mouth. The guy worked like a hurricane, when he was on a roll there was no stopping him even if Connor occasionally forgot to consult others.

Hank had learned to roll with it, to just let himself get swept up and carried along but he could see the metaphorical whiplash his subordinates were experiencing. He’d be lying if he said that look of confused offense on Reed’s face wasn’t amusing.  “The predicted area is 5 miles long with 116 registered CCTV cameras along that distance. I could limit the area further if I had a known model number.”

“Well that’s great, dipshit, but I doubt her highness is about to hand that info over” Reed glared at the android detective and Connor vaguely wondered if Gavin actually wanted him to fail. If the man’s resentment was a liability to their case.

He pushed the thought away before responding “There are other ways to gain that info”. Cyberlife being one but there was another. It wasn’t a method Connor liked resorting to and while Miller and Reed seemed somewhat placated by his vague response, Hank gave him a questioning look. The lieutenant had only seen his partner probe another android’s memories one or two times before and only as a last resort.

Hank watched Connor carefully, understanding before the android opened his mouth that there was something else going on. “Also…” Connor continued slower than before, noting the look Hank was sending him. “A large amount of the missing stock is still unaccounted for, exactly 31 biocomponents and 53 litres of Thirium to be exact”. And Hank finally got it.

Biocomponents made good money on the black market and Thirium made even better money. If this girl was dealing, then she could lead them to her buyers. But they’d have to work quickly to catch them before they went underground. Hank swore under his breath; this case was getting messier by the second and he was left wondering why they couldn’t just get a straight forward case for once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just my luck that when I finally start getting kudos, subs and comments, I'm too busy to get on my computer. But never the less, Thanks for the kudos, subs and comments, dudes :D
> 
> It took me a little longer than expected to get this chapter out. I had been planning on writing a little bit each night after putting my cousin to bed, but that is difficult to achieve when your cousin won't sleep.  
> I'm not angry about it...just sleep deprived and holding a grudge. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Kudos and subs and stuff make me so happy, you have no idea.  
> Next chapter's going to be a big one :)
> 
> ((*) - These are still a thing, right? Do other places apart from Britain have Smart boards? Are they still call Smart boards? So many questions. So little energy.)


	9. Freezing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation just keeps getting more complicated and Connor's last resort only makes matters worse. So much worse.
> 
> (Aka. Please don't hate me for this)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another large chapter, just under 4000 words but I'm so happy with it that i might explode.  
> Enjoy!

#### Chapter 9: Freezing

If anyone asked her if she was nervous, she’d deny it for the rest of her existence. But Megan couldn’t deny that that she was anxious about RK800’s return. Couldn’t deny that she’d been impatiently watching the time tick by for the past 42 minutes. Couldn’t deny that she just wanted out. As much as she hated the android detective, his abrupt absence left the room in an unstable silence, as if the mere absence of noise was threatening to collapse over her.

The quiet allowed the thoughts she’d been holding off to return and pick away at her mind. Maybe the tactic of letting her sweat was having an effect after all. Maybe she was cracking under the pressure. She just wanted… Megan didn’t know. Didn’t know what she wanted anymore. She knew what her objective was, but it wasn’t what she desired. She didn’t feel the same motivation to survive like she had before, and she could understand why. 

The hiss of the door drew her attention, stopping the thoughts that threatened to cannibalise her mind. Within the individuals first two steps, Megan confirmed their identity, not needing to open her eyes to know with 98% certainty. Instead, she glanced at the time behind her eye lids.

“That was a very long second, Detective” The iciness of her tone was unintentional and surprised even herself but upon opening her eyes, she saw the same coldness reflected back at her. Her gaze shifted to the paper file he held in his hand before smiling. This was the Android she recognised and now the real interrogation could begin.

Connor pushed past the initial shook of being greeted upon entering the room. Instead lowering himself into his seat, noting how her eyes followed him. “My apologies for keeping you waiting”. He continued to watch as he placed the file he’d put together onto the table, noting the way her posture straightened in her seat. He had her interest at least. He flipped open the cover, revealing the crime scene photos of the backpack, both closed and open, and it’s contents. Her straight face cracked for a split second, lips curling at the edges before she could compose her features. “Where are the other parts?” Connor questioned in a level tone. If he had any doubt about her involvement in the robbery, her reaction just blew them out the water.

“What parts?” Megan relaxed back into her chair, his line of questioning almost comforting to her. She’d expected this from the start, had prepared for it.

Connor’s eyes narrowed at her laid-back attitude before sliding the photos closer to her. “You know exactly what parts I’m talking about.”

“Do I?” Her eyebrow lifted at his confidence.

“Yes.” Connor shot back almost instantly, observing her cautiously. “You do” Just as he’d changed his approach so had she. He’d been open with her before and she’d imitated that openness. But now that he brought cold rationality to the table, it was like trying to question a brick wall. She wasn’t quite mimicking him as she was trying to match him.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, detective. I’ve never seen that bag before in my life” Megan held his gaze, a silent dare held within her eyes. If he had more proof of her involvement she was sure he’d have shoved it in her nose by now. As far as she was concerned, she was in the clear.

Connor hesitated for a second. He didn’t want to resort to probing her memories, but she was giving him little choice. “I don’t believe you” He responded already predicting what she would say.

She smiled, and Connor knew his prediction was about to be confirmed. “and as I’ve already stated, I don’t care what you believe”.

“Then you’d consent to a memory probe?” He watched as her smiled flickered before dissipating and her blue LED switched to yellow. Connor let a small smile of his own replace hers. “That is if you’ve got nothing to hide”.

Megan let her bitterness rise to the surface briefly because he had no fucking clue. His naivety was almost taunting and a bitter, twisted little part of Megan wanted him to see. Wanted him to see everything, to know everything. Even if just to see that smile wiped off his face.

But she pushed back her bitterness, letting her rationality remind her that it wasn’t as simple as that and it would never be as simple as that. However, her rationality also reminded her that this had always been a possibility. “I know my rights, detective. You don’t require consent to look through my mind”

Connor blinked as a small spark of light bloomed in his chest, relaxing his cold exterior slightly. She was correct, of course. Markus had yet to secure Androids their right to privacy, the amount of new legislation slowing the process down drastically.

But Connor always asked for permission when he could. Just because it wasn’t required of him to do so, didn’t mean that he could ignore that it was the right thing to do. “Either way, I am asking for your permission” Connor leaned across the table, keeping his movements slow and offering his hand, not missing how her LED blinked red for the first time in his presence.

Megan watched the skin of his hand recede, exposing the white plastic underneath and realised that she was now fully ready to admit that she was nervous, pride be damned. She knew what the Android in front of her could do. Knew his capabilities, could imagine that he had experience in rifling through the mind of another. But she also knew that she didn’t have that experience. Didn’t know her own capabilities. But did know the risk, that she’d be leaving herself vulnerable and really what was stopping him from ripping her apart in his hunt for the truth.

Her eyes wandered away from his hand, staring once again into the depths of his eyes. They were encouraging, holding a stable warmth, meant to reassure her and they did. Reassured her that the Android in front of her was horrendously, contemptibly blind to the world around him. Blind to his own vulnerabilities and obliviousness. Still so young and for a second, Megan felt pity for him as the emotion twitched her mouth into a tentative smile. Unfortunately, His lips twitched upwards in return and Megan felt her resentment slam into her full force. She receded the skin of her hand and moved to meet his. An advantage was an advantage.

Their hands met and instantly both androids were projected away from the reality of the small interrogation room and cast back to the events of the night before. It almost shocked Megan to think that it had all only happened last night. It felt longer than that.

Connor instantly could tell that she’d gone over the event, the images that greeted him upon entering were crisp and clear. He could almost imagine he was really there as he watched from her perspective. Watched her time spent in the interrogation room and the holding cell. Watched her being processed and arriving at the station. The ride in the police car and being arrested. Connor kept going, watching as she jumped over the balcony railing and narrowly dodged the officer’s bullets, all while monitoring the other android’s presence as he went. Many of the androids he’d probed in the past had displayed distress over re-watching what they went through, but she remained stoic, merely watching along with him.

The only really reaction she showed was as they came to stand over the deceased. Connor observed his corpse through her eyes and noticed her presence grow colder. He had access to her scans, the data she’d read over, noting that she had estimated Mr. Roberts time of death. His gut twisted, feeling like he knew her innocence already, but he had to be thorough. He continued the probe as she knelt before the body. _“Liam, please…”_ the sound of her plea caused his gut to constrict further as he felt her icy presence over his shoulder.

He could see the distortion to the memory that her own tears had caused, watched as she tried to apply pressure to the dead man’s wounds. These actions he’d witnessed didn’t match the distance attitude she had for the victim during the interrogation, didn’t match the way she mirrored that attitude now. _“Liam?!”_ And yet he kept watching as she turned over his body, as she rushed to his side. _“Liam?”_ the grief in her tone shifted to a timid vigilance as Connor continued to rewind, take note of the way his view tilted a little as she stood next to the victim’s fridge, causing him to pause briefly.

Was she limping? He didn’t think it was likely considering she hadn’t been limping as she ran from the police. Or was she carrying something? The back pack had been located close to the fridge which would explain why he was only noticing the difference at this point.

In the still Connor felt her presence shift, withdrawing from his slightly. Tilting angles weren’t enough, he needed to gather conclusive evidence of her involvement in the robbery. He needed to see it.

So, he sped through the following seconds, vaguely noting her cautious entry through the balcony door. His vision had just focused on the dancing little flag when he felt the environment stutter and momentum grind to a holt, flag frozen mid wave. He mentally frowned before trying to push onwards and past whatever had obstructed his investigation, only to stop suddenly. The world around him glitched, muted colours distorting, image splitting as he felt a phantom breeze ghost over his regulator valve.

His artificial breathing stuttered as he tried to convince himself that the light touch had just been his imagination. This was her memories, nothing more. But as he weakly searched for her presence in his frozen state, he felt the thirium in his veins grow cold. Where was she?!

 

* * *

 

Stopping the flow of information through the connect had been like trying to stand her ground in a tsunami. Overwhelming and virtually impossible. Megan had left him to watch her struggles in Liam’s apartment as she’d investigated the fortress of his processor for some way to make the probe stop.

She worked in a frenzied crusade, doing her best to not topple against the tide of data. Navigating their connection and the path it led to his mind was a bizarre new experience for her. She could feel the energy rushing through their hands, as draining as it was empowering. If she concentrated hard enough she could feel her body, still sitting in the interrogation room but it felt distant and heavy. Like she’d been forced into sleep mode.

She kept an eye on the detective’s investigation as her system erratically scanned for some way to stop the codes that flooded her attempts to wrestle control away from him. Experimentally, Megan tried to move her arm on the table. She’d expected her movements to be as weighted and slowed as her distant limbs felt but was surprised and fascinated when she felt her arm moved smoothly, weightlessly, almost as if she was moving through water, listening as the chain of her cuffs clinked at the shift. She was suddenly very grateful to herself for loosening the lock on that hand.

One swift jerk and she’d be free of it and able to defend herself against this mental assault. The first clue that she was making some form of progress was when she’d _felt_ him pause and for a terrifying second she thought he’d noticed her efforts to gain the upper hand.

Her attempts not to react were futile as she instinctually tried to conceal herself further. She’d found that within the connection she didn’t really get the opportunity to think through her actions.

The moment she thought about doing something, she’d already done it. So, when the eager Android started fast forwarding through her arrival at the apartment, Megan had reacted on pure instinct.

Her hand reached out, fighting the current of the code as it threated to drag her under. Her eyes scoured the waterfall of codes and numbers as they ran over her until her vision finally locked on a vague shape forming amongst the chaos. Realising what little time she had, Megan jerked her hand forward and latched onto the object.

She audibly gasped as she felt her fingers physically hold it, the sound echoing around her. The next thing Megan knew, she was blinking her eyes open, having never shut them. She noted the sudden calm before she even registered her surroundings but when she did she stared in quiet awe.

It was Liam’s apartment, more specifically the little balcony and everything was entirely frozen. Including the RK800. He stood exactly where she had, in exactly the same position as she’d stared at the flag from. His hand even held an invisible backpack over his shoulder. She was already unnervingly close to his form, it only being a small balcony and all and yet, she decided to take a step closer.

He was as still as a statue, even his eyes refused to shift as she moved in front of him. She took in every detail of his face, documenting the tiniest dot and freckle, raising a critical brow at how Cyberlife had put so much detail into their creation.

All of a sudden, as she watched him, Megan felt like something slammed into her side, threatening to knock her off her feet. She held her ground as the calm motionless world around her glitched violently, betraying the reality of the situation.

But even in their simulated setting, the force persisted, pushing against her frame like gale force winds. The colours around them flashed as Megan realised what was happening. He was fighting her, against her control. She couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t let it slip through her fingers, couldn’t let him see. She had to stop him but how?

Her eyes flicked down to his stationary torso, to where she knew his regulator was and found that her hand was moving for it before she even really thought about it. The second she did was the same second her fingers passed through his white shirt like it simply wasn’t there and brushed against the circular valve.

It was the same second that saw the world stabilise and the stop of the ghostly challenge to her control. It was in the next second that Megan withdrew her hand.

It was a strangely odd feeling to realise that she could do it, could shut him down from the inside. It was a possibility open to her, but he’d probably fight her, leave her just as broken and on death’s door. Now that her rational programming kicked in she could say with certainty that if she destroyed him, he’d destroy her in return.

Megan gazed into his unmoving brown eyes as her mind worked away. She could, it was an option. But she stepped away, taking her thoughts with her. Even if she survived the attack from him and his firewalls, she’d be left with the reality of her actions.

They’d definitely charge her with murder then. Her gaze drifted to his LED that remained frozen in a yellow flash of light. There was, of course, something else she could try.

Her left hand reached up to touch the circle of light. The moment her fingers made the lightest of contact, the disk flashed brightly, blinding her and when she opened her eyes once more, she felt her stomach plummet as she stared into a pair of familiar blue eyes.

She could hear the beating of her thirium pump in her ears, wondering what she’d done wrong and how he’d regained control without her noticing. But as she tensely waited for the oppressive waves of codes to come wash her away again, the seconds ticked by and Megan slowly started to properly look at the image before her.

Looked past Chloe’s blank stare and blonde’s pulled back hair and noticed that her dress was blue instead of grey. Noticed that there was snow covering the ground outside and that her hand that held the loaded gun was not her own.

She released her tension with a slow exhale as she came to understand what was happening, urging the memory to keep playing and watching as the other cop appeared to her right. Lieutenant Anderson, if she remembered correctly. She smiled, almost barking out a laugh, feeling pride and power blossom in her chest.

Admittedly, she may have struggled in the beginning, but she was starting get the hang of this probe business now. She had his memories, she could watch his entire life if she wanted. However, that wasn’t what she wanted at all.

She urged the images to fast forward, skipping large portions of his life. She didn’t need to see what the other android had been up to since the revolution, hardly caring how the man decided to spend his freedom. What she did need to see was how Liam’s investigation was going. She started at the crime scene, listening to a cop named Ben talk about Liam’s neighbours and watching Connor’s attempts at reconstructions.

She grew irritated at the lack of anything useful so moved onto his arrival at the station, enjoying Detective Reed’s sulking greatly. Enjoying the thrill of seeing the bigoted human figure out her little insult even more. But the feeling soon faded as she began to realise that they really had been concentrating all their efforts on her.

She listened to them discuss involving Cyberlife, gritting her teeth at their ineptitude. Liam’s killer was out there doing god-knows what and they were too busy worrying over her stupid model number and that despicable company.

Megan had been seconds away from fast forwarding to try and find something of use to her when she felt a sudden white-hot agony strike across her right palm.

It was pain, pain like she’d never experienced before. It stung, it swelled, it burned, it blistered and popped.

She clawed at it with her other hand, praying for it to just stop and it did.

She opened her eyes, wondering if such agony really had obeyed her commands, only to receive perceptual whiplash at the images in front of her. Not images, she corrected. Reality.

She messaged her right palm, feeling no trace of the pain she’d just felt as she adjusted to the world around her. Her right wrist was free of it’s cuff which lay open and disregarded on the metal table. She must’ve broken free at some point during the probe.

The thought made her eyes snap up to where she expected them to meet with accusing brown ones. But the space was empty, in fact the other side of the table was completely empty. Had he left?

Megan turned her head towards the door, only to jump at the sudden sight of that other officer.

Miller, she remembered, realising that she wasn’t as aware of her surroundings as she should be. She was grateful, however, that the human had missed her jolt of surprise, too busy staring at the opposite end of the room.

She followed his gaze, only to realise just how distressingly unaware she really was. She hadn’t even noticed the talking until that moment. “Connor? For fuck-sake, son! Just say something, will ya?!” The old lieutenant, Hank, her mind supplied, was weakly pinning the RK800 to the far wall. One hand securing the android’s shoulder against the wall and the other grasping the back of his neck roughly. “Connor?!”

But Megan paid very little attention to the old man as her eyes finally connected with a pair of wide brown ones. He was breathing heavily, an act that confused her, as he clutched at his left elbow like it would fall off if he let go. His LED was circling bright red which caught her off-guard.

The Android detective seemed to come to his sense then as he turned his stare away from Megan and onto his lieutenant. “I’m fine” the words sounded like poorly constructed lies as they echoed through the tense room. Megan watched captivated and perturbed as his hand rubbed circles into his elbow and a terrifying thought entered her head.

She glanced down at her right palm, not so much feeling residual aches as remembering the recall of the pain. Had he felt that? She ran her observations through her programming, noting how the pain had presented itself in the same hand she’d reached through the coding with.

She looked up once more, meeting his stare once more, holding her head that little bit higher. She’d grabbed him, she must have. It explained the physical object she’d grasping through the codes and how she’d broken free of her cuff.

“You…” Her eyes narrowed at the guarded questioning that sparked in his. It didn’t explain, however, what the hell that torturous sensation was. Didn’t show her a method of avoiding ever having to feel it again.

Megan bristled as she felt another set of eyes land on her and all her indignant wrath burst back to life as she glared through the lieutenant’s eyes. “She…I couldn’t…” The RK800’s failed attempts to communicate only seemed to worsen the old man’s fury towards her. Even as she caught the android’s LED cycle back to yellow.

“Come on. Let’s go” The lieutenant practically ordered, voice gruff and accusatory as he returned her glare. Megan watched with bated breath as the human grabbed the android’s shoulder turning him away before lightly pushing him in front of him as they made to exit the room. But it wasn’t just Anderson’s actions that intrigued her, it was the look he was giving her.

Like he was staring down a predator on the prowl, challenging her to try something. And all Megan could think about was how right the treatment felt. How they were finally seeing her for what she truly was. She breathed easy, wrapping herself in the sensation as she let it define her, its comfortable familiarity soothing her like an old friend.

Which was why the sudden holt to the movement in the room, catch her completely off guard, overturning her comfort. “Wait.” The android’s abrupt stop had her refocusing on his form, bracing herself as he turned and stepped towards her.

Megan caught both of the humans shift at his movement at the edge of her vision, but all her attention centred around him as he presented his hand to her once more. For a split second, Megan stared up at him in complete confusion because the idiot couldn’t possible being asking to connect with her again.

“I’ll be taking that” His voice still held a slight hollowness to it, but his words caused a spark of comprehension to run through her.

She struggled to smother her reluctant smile as she plucked her hair pin from where she’d hidden it, in the gap between her handcuff and her left wrist. Struggled even further at the look of surprise that crossed both of the humans’ faces as she slowly placed the warped metal pin into the android detective’s waiting palm.

As soon as his fingers secured that makeshift lockpick in his grasp Connor was out of the room, quickly followed by the others, leaving her in the empty hospitable silence once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Connor...Poor Hank...Poor everyone really. None of them were in a particularly good mood to begin with, and i had to go and make everyone miserable. Pretty such i have an angst addiction, not gonna lie.
> 
> I hope you guys don't hate Megan after this chapter. Yeah, she hurt Connor but meep...
> 
> Aftermath in the next chapter! Stay tuned!


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